Song as Old as Rhyme
by So-crates Johnson
Summary: A modern retelling following the original storyline, in which most of the main characters are gainfully employed college graduates.
1. Let There be Rock

_A quick explanation about this story: A few months ago, I had an idea for a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. But I ran into some trouble when trying to write the prince character as a jerk; it felt really forced to me. So I played around with the sequence of events, and the story morphed into something different, though I recycled a lot of what I'd originally written (I published it here as Tune as Old as Song). Eventually, I decided to go back and play with some of the stuff I'd originally written, and I think I found a way to make it work. I actually kind of like this better._

The first chapter of this story is the same as in the other story, but from Chapter 2 on it's very different (much more of a straight-up retelling). If you're one of the three people who's read the other story, an occasional snippet of conversation might sound familiar, but that won't happen too often (and to make up for it, I'm publishing this whole thing in one shot - _hopefully that doesn't bother anyone)._

* * *

Belle yawned quietly and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. As she twisted in her seat, her gaze landed on a padded envelope leaning against her purse on the floor of her cubicle. She grinned to herself. Inside the envelope was an advance copy of the new _Song of Ice and Fire_ novel. One of the perks of reviewing books for the _Molyneaux Times_ was getting an early peek at hotly anticipated releases, and like many fans of the series, Belle had been anticipating the publication of this book for a _very_ long time. Her copy had just been delivered that afternoon, and all that stood between her and a marathon reading session with a pint of her favorite ice cream was the last thirty minutes of the work day.

She was just about to open an email from her editor when she was greeted by a cheerful "Hey, Belle!" She looked up from her computer to see Chip Potts bounding up to her desk with a huge grin on his face. Chip was a summer intern who, like Belle, worked in the arts department; he had also quickly become her closest friend in the few weeks that they'd worked together.

"Hi there, Chip. You look happy," Belle observed with a smile. This was an understatement; Chip looked like a child who had just been given a pony.

"I just got my first byline!" Chip blurted. "And you won't believe how cool it is! I'm interviewing Enchantress! They're opening for The Riverbottom Nightmare Band at The Castle tonight."

"That's a pretty big deal for a local band, isn't it?" Belle asked curiously. She didn't know much about Enchantress, but it was hard to live in Molyneaux and not at least be aware of their existence; they played frequently at the various venues in town. The Riverbottom Nightmare Band, on the other hand, was a fairly well known national act. Even though Belle wasn't a fan of theirs, she knew exactly who they were. They were slightly scary-looking, and for some reason, their lead singer had always reminded her of an ill-tempered bear.

"It's the biggest gig they've ever played!" Chip exclaimed. "I've been trying to get tickets ever since I heard they were the opening band, but it's been sold out for weeks. And now not only do I get to go, but I get to interview the band for the paper, too! This is officially the coolest job ever." He sighed happily.

"Congratulations, Chip," Belle said warmly. "Have a great time tonight; I can't wait to read your story in the morning."

"Actually," Chip's grin widened even further, "I've got a plus one. Are you busy tonight? Why don't you come to the show with me?"

Belle wrinkled her nose. "I don't know, Chip. Aren't they a heavy metal band? It's not really my kind of music."

"Oh come on, Belle," Chip pleaded. "It'll be fun! These guys are awesome. All of the members of the band went to MU. They used to play parties on campus all the time, and _everyone_ loved them. They might surprise you."

Belle glanced longingly at the envelope sitting just a few feet away; she had really been looking forward to staying in tonight. "You don't think one of your friends from school would rather go with you?"

"Nah," Chip started. But before he could finish what he was about to say, a deep voice boomed across the newsroom.

"Hello, Belle!"

Belle groaned. Gaston Lafleur, the _Times' _star sports reporter, was striding toward her with a cocky grin plastered across his handsome face. Gaston was a former defensive end on the MU football team who had briefly gone pro, but an injury during his second season had forced him into early retirement. The Times had hired him shortly thereafter, hoping to capitalize on the fact that he was the closest thing to a celebrity that the town had. Frankly, Belle was surprised that the man was able to speak in complete sentences, much less write a regular column for a newspaper.

Gaston leaned confidently on the corner of Belle's desk, knocking over a photo of her parents in the process. When he made no move to pick up the photo, Belle huffed and leaned over to retrieve it from the floor. "What can I do for you, Gaston?" she asked politely as she straightened in her chair.

He flashed her his most charming grin. "Today is your lucky day, Belle. There isn't a girl in town who wouldn't love to be in your shoes. The University is holding a banquet tonight to retire my jersey. Picture this: dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, open bar, all of my trophies on display - and you get to be the guest of honor's date. Can you be ready if I pick you up at 7?"

"Oh - that's very kind of you, Gaston. But ...," Belle trailed off, flustered. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse - _any_ excuse - to turn down the invitation. Spending the evening listening to Gaston drunkenly boast about the glory days sounded even worse than spending the evening having her eardrums assaulted by a metal band. _A metal band? Wait!_ "... I'm going to a concert tonight with Chip!" she exclaimed.

"Who?" Gaston asked, confused and clearly not expecting Belle's next words to be anything other than "yes."

"Hi," Chip piped up from the corner of Belle's cubicle, giving Gaston a cheeky wave.

As Gaston scowled at Chip, Belle rushed on in what she hoped was her most apologetic voice. "It's an assignment for the paper. A very big story too. But I'm sure you'll have fun without me. I don't even know anything about football, anyway; I don't really deserve the invitation."

Gaston seemed about to protest, but thought better of it when he noticed several of their coworkers shooting them curious looks. As he stalked off, grumbling under his breath, Chip smirked at Belle. "How many times does that make?"

Belle groaned. "I've lost count." Gaston had asked her out at least a dozen times since she had started working for the paper. "I don't understand it - I've tried turning him down politely, and even telling him that I don't date coworkers. He just won't give up. What do I have to _do_?" she sighed in exasperation.

Chip shrugged sympathetically. "Maybe he sees you as a challenge. The way most of the girls in town fuss over him, I don't think he's used to be turned down." He looked at Belle curiously. "You really _don't_ have any interest in him, do you?"

"None at all," Belle answered vehemently. "He's rude, and conceited, and shows no respect for other people. I don't care how good looking he is; he's not for me."

Chip patted her shoulder and gave her an admiring look. "I'm sure he'll get the message eventually. Even _he_ can't be that thick. So," he added, changing the subject, "are you really coming to the concert now?"

Belle almost laughed at the hopeful expression on his face. "Yeah," she sighed. "I guess so. When and where should I meet you?"

Chip bounced happily on the balls of his feet. "Why don't we meet in the lobby around 5:30? The doors don't open until 6:30, but I want to try to get a good spot, and I'm sure people will start lining up early. I'm really glad you're coming with me - you won't regret it."

Belle wasn't sure about that, but she agreed to meet him in the lobby in an hour. As Chip walked back to his desk, Belle glanced once more at the package on the floor. She hurriedly stuffed it into her purse in an effort to keep it out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.

* * *

Belle stood near the corner of the stage, shifting her weight in an effort to relieve her aching feet. She could see why Chip had had such a hard time getting tickets to the show tonight - The Castle was packed. Belle felt like she was being crushed from every direction, and she wondered briefly if this was the sort of show that was likely to incite a mosh pit. She had a sudden, terrifying vision of being hurled across the room by one of the large, over-caffeinated teenagers jockeying for a spot on the floor. Just as she was considering moving to a spot closer to the back of the room, Chip let out an excited squeak. "There they are!" he exclaimed as three young men began setting up their equipment onstage.

"So you knew these guys in college?" Belle asked conversationally.

"Well, not personally," Chip admitted. "They were all a few years older than me, so it's not like we ever had any classes together."

"How much older are they?" asked Belle. None of the men looked to be older than mid-twenties to her.

"Well, Charles Cogsworth was three years older than me," Chip said, gesturing to the stocky, serious man wearing jeans, a white t shirt, and a vest whose buttons strained valiantly against his generous belly. He looked all business as he fussed over the positioning of the drum pedals. "He was a senior when I was a freshman. Same for Jean Lumiere." This time, Chip pointed to a lanky, somewhat flashily dressed young man with a ponytail who was adjusting the microphone. He had an easy smile, and looked much more relaxed than the drummer as he bantered with a few audience members who were standing close to the stage. "But Adam Prince was only one year ahead of me - he just graduated last month, same as you." Belle's gaze fell on a tall young man wearing jeans and a black t shirt. His sandy, shoulder-length hair obscured his face as he bent over a guitar, listening intently as he tuned the instrument.

"They don't look the way I expected a metal band to look," confessed Belle.

Chip laughed. "What were you expecting? Claws and fangs?"

"Sort of?" Belle blushed, thinking again of her impressions of the evening's headline act. "I don't know. I guess I just wasn't expecting them to look so normal."

Chip shrugged. "Well, they're definitely more classic metal than death metal, if that's what you mean."

"I'm not sure I know the difference," Belle admitted with a laugh as the room suddenly darkened. A spotlight fell on Jean Lumiere, who flashed the crowd a dazzling smile as he hoisted a bass guitar.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with a flourish, "it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. We are Enchantress, and we hope you enjoy the show!"

The crowd cheered as Enchantress launched into their first song of the night. Belle was surprised to find herself bobbing her head to the music. It was certainly heavier than what she was accustomed to listening to, but it was also unexpectedly melodic. And she had to admit, Jean Lumiere was a natural showman. Every pair of eyes was glued to the charismatic frontman as he strutted across the stage, hamming it up and throwing the occasional wink to the cheering crowd. He clearly loved the attention, and the audience positively showered him with it. Toward the end of the song, however, the attention of the crowd was abruptly diverted when Adam Prince launched into a blistering guitar solo. "Man, that guy is a _beast_ on the guitar!" Chip exclaimed appreciatively. As Belle glimpsed the young guitarist's face for the first time, she was surprised to see that he was actually quite good looking, even with his strong features screwed into a look of intense concentration. The crowd roared in approval as the solo came to an end, and another enthusiastic round of applause greeted the end of the song soon after. However, the band took little time to bask in the cheers as they continued on with their set.

Belle was startled when, roughly forty minutes later, Jean Lumiere thanked the audience and announced the last song in Enchantress's set. She had enjoyed the show much more than she had expected to, and had lost track of how much time had passed. As the last song began, Chip grabbed her elbow and shouted into her ear. "We should probably make our way back toward the green room for the interview!" Belle nodded and tried her best to keep up with Chip as he navigated his way through the tightly packed maze of people crowding the floor. They reached a curtained doorway off to the side of the stage, where two burly looking bouncers stood at attention on either side. One of the bouncers leaned down to listen as Chip explained who they were, gesturing to the press pass hanging from a lanyard around his neck. Belle couldn't make out a word of the exchange, but the bouncer suddenly nodded and straightened. He beckoned to Chip and Belle before turning and disappearing through the curtains. Chip looked back at Belle, shrugged, and followed the bouncer with Belle close behind him.

Belle blinked as she passed through the curtains and into a brightly lit and surprisingly busy hallway. As her eyes adjusted, she quickened her pace to catch up with Chip and the bouncer, who were several steps ahead of her. The hallway took a labyrinthine series of turns, and the trio passed various doorways that led to offices, dressing rooms, and storage areas. She was hopelessly lost by the time the bouncer stopped in front of a door.

"Here's the green room," he announced as he opened the door and waved them inside. "The band should be here in a few minutes." He turned and strode back down the crowded hallway, disappearing around the nearest corner.

Belle and Chip surveyed the green room as they closed the door behind them. It was small, but comfortable looking. A large couch and several chairs were arranged around a low table to make a sitting area in the center of the room. A mini fridge stood against the far wall, and a flat screen TV hung on the wall behind them. Framed posters from previous concerts held at The Castle decorated the remaining walls, and Belle recognized the names of some of the bands. As she moved to get a closer look at one of the posters, she heard Chip make a choking noise behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, spinning to face him.

"The batteries in my recorder are dead!" wailed Chip, waving the device in his hand. A note of panic crept into his voice. "I swear, I checked them right before I left the office! You don't have any extras on you, do you?"

"I don't," Belle said apologetically. "But it looked like there were still people in some of the offices we just passed. Maybe one of them can loan you a set?"

Chip brightened. "Yeah, I'm sure they can!"

As he made for the door, Belle asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Nah, that's ok," said Chip. "I'll only be a few minutes. Besides, someone should be here in case the band gets back before I do." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I'll be right back."

Belle wandered over to the sitting area and decided to have a seat on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable. As she set her purse on the table, she remembered the book she had stuffed into it earlier. Shrugging to herself, she decided to make the most of this unexpected quiet time. She fished the book from her purse, shifted in her seat to get more comfortable, and opened to the first chapter.


	2. Perfect Strangers

Belle had barely made it two pages into the book when she heard the doorknob rattle. "That was quick" she commented, not bothering to lift her eyes from the page as the door swung open. When Chip didn't answer, she finally raised her gaze - and caught her breath as she found herself looking straight into a pair of startlingly blue eyes that most definitely did not belong to Chip. Up close and in the light, Adam Prince was even more handsome than he had looked onstage. His chiseled features were softened by a look of surprise - at her unexpected greeting, Belle assumed. Under the light, she thought she could see glints of auburn in his long, tousled hair. But his eyes were what really drew her attention - she had never seen eyes that were such a deep shade of blue. They were beautiful, and as she gazed into them in awe, Belle felt as if they were pulling her under a spell. A spell that was abruptly broken when Adam opened his mouth. "What are you doing in here?" he asked irritably.

Belle blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What are you _doing_ in here?" Adam repeated slowly, enunciating each word as if he thought she were stupid. "They're not supposed to let groupies back here. We have an interview to do."

Belle crossed her arms and fixed him with a steely glare. "Do I _look_ like a groupie?"

Adam looked her over indifferently, taking in the neat, conservative work clothes that she'd had no opportunity to change before meeting Chip. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine. Then who are you?"

"I'm from the _Times_. My colleague is here to interview your band, and I tagged along. Do you need to see my press pass?" she asked defiantly.

Adam grunted as he yanked open the door to the mini fridge. "Where is your _colleague_?" he challenged.

"He ran out to look for something in one of the offices," Belle responded. "He should be back soon." _But not soon enough_, she thought to herself privately. The evening had been unexpectedly enjoyable up until this point, but she wasn't sure how long she could tolerate being stuck alone in the green room with Adam Prince. What a grouch! She couldn't even figure out exactly what she had done to get on his bad side so quickly - she had simply been sitting quietly, reading her book. She just hoped that Chip hurried back with some fresh batteries so that they could get this interview over with.

"Whatever," Adam mumbled, his back to her as he rummaged in the fridge. "Just don't get in the way of the interview."

"I'll try not to," Belle answered sarcastically, sticking her tongue out at him even though she knew he couldn't see her. She was aware that the gesture was immature, but it gave her a little surge of satisfaction all the same.

Adam dropped himself onto the other end of the couch and guzzled down a bottle of water in a single breath. Belle watched this with equal amounts of awe and disgust, but Adam seemed to be doing his best to ignore her presence. Not that this bothered her - it was clear that he was infinitely more pleasant when he wasn't speaking. No sooner had this thought entered Belle's head, however, than she felt a little twinge of guilt. She had never been an overly sociable person by anyone's definition, but she had always tried to be kind to people. She had even tried to see the best in Gaston at first, and only gave up when it became clear that he was truly as boorish and brainless as her initial impression of him had suggested. Maybe she and Adam had simply gotten off on the wrong foot, and there was still an opportunity to undo the damage.

"You know, your band was actually pretty good," she said as an attempt at making peace.

Adam raised an eyebrow at her. "You sound surprised," he observed cautiously.

"Well I don't really listen to a lot of metal," Belle admitted. "So I didn't know what to expect."

"What _do_ you listen to? Lady Gaga?" he asked in a tone that made his opinions on Belle's presumed musical preferences perfectly evident.

Belle's hands flew to her hips. "What's wrong with Lady Gaga?" she demanded. Adam merely rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his pocket. He jammed a pair of earbuds into his ears and began to scroll through the tracks displayed on the phone's screen. Belle threw her hands up in surrender and returned to her book, trying not to look at the clock to see exactly how long Chip had been gone. So much for trying to be the bigger person.

When Chip finally came bursting through the door to the green room with Adam's bandmates, Belle wasn't sure whether she wanted to hug him in relief or berate him for leaving her alone for so long. Jean Lumiere and Charles Cogsworth at least seemed to be much friendlier than their guitarist, for they were laughing and joking with Chip as the trio entered the room. Belle thought she heard Jean Lumiere say something about finding Chip in a broom closet and shook her head. Apparently Chip had gotten lost on his way back to the green room. That was just her luck.

Once Jean Lumiere had retrieved drinks for everyone (he was much more hospitable than Adam had been, Belle noted snidely), the group settled into the sitting area to start the interview. Chip seemed to have established a good rapport with the frontman and the drummer, and he was doing a capable job of asking questions, so Belle allowed herself to daydream for a bit and think about her new book. It would have been impolite to pull it out during the interview, but now that the concert was over, she really was anxious to get home and read a bit more. The fate of one of her favorite characters had been left unresolved at the end of the previous book in the series, and she was eager to find out what had happened. She hoped it was addressed early in the book, or she doubted she'd be getting much sleep that night.

Her attention drifted back toward the interview as Chip asked about how the band had originally been formed. She was surprised to learn that Jean Lumiere and Charles Cogsworth had both grown up in Molyneaux and had been best friends since elementary school. The charming, easygoing frontman seemed so different from the drummer, who, although friendly enough, appeared to be wound quite tightly. She smiled as she imagined what the two men must have been like as children.

"The two of us used to dream about being in a band together when we were kids," Lumiere continued with his story. "We tried a few times, but things didn't really come together until we met Adam. And that didn't happen until he moved out here in high school."

"And how did you meet him, exactly?" Chip asked. "You wouldn't have been in the same classes."

"We weren't," Lumiere acknowledged. "But we, ah, served the same detentions."

Chip laughed. "You guys spent that much time in detention, huh?"

"_I_ didn't," Cogsworth interjected indignantly.

"Well no," Lumiere conceded. "Charlie was a model student. But I may have had to put in an appearance or two for certain ... transgressions."

"What did you _do_?" Chip asked, leaning forward eagerly. It was clear that he was hoping for some spectacular story involving trashed hotel rooms, wild parties, or other typical rock star antics.

"I burned down the chemistry lab," Lumiere responded nonchalantly.

"_What_?" Belle cried out in horror. Her hand flew to her mouth as the four men turned to look at her. "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

"You did _not_," Cogsworth reproached, rolling his eyes. "You want the real story? He knocked over a Bunsen burner and set off the fire sprinklers while trying to impress his hot lab partner. He got sent to detention for ruining the books and equipment."

Lumiere reddened. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't print that," he mumbled, shooting a wounded look at his loose-lipped friend.

"Consider it off the record," Chip agreed with a grin. "And what were you in for, Adam?"

"I don't remember," Adam replied, shrugging carelessly.

"Adam was kind of a regular in detention," Lumiere explained. _Who would have guessed?_ Belle thought wryly. "Odds were pretty good that we'd end up in there together. I noticed him sitting in the back of the room screwing around on his guitar, and I asked him if he'd ever played in a band. Charlie and I had been talking again about starting one up, but we were having trouble finding the right guitarist. I invited Adam to come by practice that weekend, and the rest, as they say, is history."

Belle slipped into silent thought once again as Chip delved further into the history to which Lumiere had alluded. As different as Lumiere and Cogsworth seemed to be, they shared a camaraderie that was obvious to any observer. They played off of each other in a way that was both amusing and spoke of their long history. How Adam fit into the picture, though, was still a mystery to her. He exuded none of the warmth or charm of his bandmates, and yet the three claimed to be best friends. Clearly, his friends must see something in him that she didn't.

She voiced these thoughts to Chip as they left the club together after the interview. Chip merely laughed. "He wasn't very talkative, but he didn't seem like_ that _much of a monster. I'm sure he's not so bad once you get to know him."

"Yeah, well, I don't _want_ to get to know him," Belle grumbled. "I'm just glad I don't have to have anything to do with him ever again."

"What exactly did he say to you before we came in?" Chip asked curiously. There was an edge to his voice, and Belle felt a rush of affection for her friend and his instincts to defend her honor.

She sighed. "It was nothing, really. He just made it very clear that he didn't like me being there."

"Really?" Chip asked in surprise. "He barely took his eyes off of you during the interview."

Now it was Belle's turn to be surprised. "Really?" she echoed. She had been making a conscious effort _not_ to look at Adam for the rest of the evening, lest she find herself on the receiving end of one of his icy glares. "Maybe he was trying to curse me with his mind," she joked, wiggling her fingers playfully at Chip.

Chip laughed. "I don't think that was it," he said thoughtfully.

"Well it doesn't matter," Belle responded firmly. "The interview is over, you got your story, and I don't ever have to see him again. I'm sure that makes him just as happy as it makes me."


	3. I Ain't No Nice Guy

"Hello, Belle," a deep voice greeted, rudely breaking Belle's concentration as she furiously skimmed the pages of a book for a vaguely-remembered passage.

She didn't need to look up from her book to identify the speaker. But she did need to look up when he lifted the book from her hands. "Gaston!" she sighed in irritation. "I need to look something up in that for an article." She made a grab for the book, but he deftly spun out of her reach, eying the stolen pages suspiciously.

"How can you _read_ this? There are no pictures!"

"Well some people use their - oh, never mind!" Belle groaned when she realized that he wasn't joking. "Just give it back, please. I really need to finish this article."

"Can't you finish it after lunch? My treat," Gaston smiled at her charmingly.

"I'm working through lunch today, but thank you for the offer," Belle replied curtly, finally wrestling the book from his grip.

"You work too hard," Gaston complained. "Don't you ever get tired of it? I'm sure a pretty girl like you could find a nice guy to take care of you." He winked at her suggestively. If it had been physically possible, Belle was certain her jaw would have hit the floor. As it was, her mouth hung open like a fish's as it tried to form the words to reply. But for once, Gaston had left her speechless.

For his part, Gaston seemed not to have noticed the offense he had caused. "I'll tell you what," he continued. "You go ahead and finish your little story, and we'll do dinner instead. Can you meet me in the lobby after work?"

"I'm sorry, Gaston, but I have to run an errand for my father after work," she replied through gritted teeth, finally finding her voice. "Maybe some other time." She knew that by saying this she was only inviting another unwanted overture. If it got rid of him for the time being, however, she considered it a victory. She'd deal with his next invitation when it came.

"How about tomorr - "

He was cut off by the sound of Belle's phone ringing. She dove for the handset like a drowning woman diving for a life preserver. "I'm sorry, I really need to take this. Enjoy your lunch!" she exclaimed, waving Gaston away. He frowned but retreated reluctantly toward the stairs. Belle breathed a sigh of relief before remembering that she still had someone on the line. "Hello?"

"I saw a damsel in distress and figured I'd come to her rescue," Chip's voice greeted her. She peered around her computer monitor to see him waving at her from his own desk further down the hallway. "Did it work?"

Belle laughed. "Like a charm. You're my hero." She saluted him gratefully as she replaced the handset.

* * *

When she left the office a few hours later, Belle was astonished to discover how hot it was outside. She could feel the sweat begin to trickle down the back of her neck as she started down the block in the direction of a local music shop. She hadn't been lying when she had told Gaston she needed to run an errand for her father after work. Maurice DuPont had decided to pick up the guitar again after many years of being out of practice, and he had sent his old instrument to the music shop for some minor repairs that had been completed that morning. Since the shop was near her office, Belle had offered to pick it up for him.

However, she began to regret this offer the instant she stepped outside. Although the music shop wasn't far, stopping there would take her in the opposite direction of her comfortable, air-conditioned apartment. It would be a few days before she saw her father, who lived in a small house on the outskirts of the downtown area where Belle lived. Belle's steps slowed, and she fanned her face with her hand as she debated delaying the errand for a day or two.

She turned around and glanced back in the direction from which she'd come, only to have her eyes fall on the last person she wanted to see: Gaston. He was standing outside the entrance to the Times offices, talking and laughing with some of the other writers from the sports desk. Belle glanced around frantically; he didn't seem to have noticed her standing there, at least not yet. But the odds of her sneaking past him undetected were slim, and she desperately wanted to avoid a repeat of their earlier conversation. Coming quickly to a decision, she spun and hurried back in her original direction, toward the music shop.

She was hit with a welcome blast of cold air when she finally entered the music shop, and for a brief moment, she simply closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she stood underneath the vent. An unfamiliar voice called out, "Can I help you, miss?" Belle's eyes snapped open and searched for the speaker, who turned out to be a gentleman standing behind a glass display counter. The man was wearing a pair of jeans and a tie dyed Jimi Hendrix t shirt. His graying, light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached halfway down his back. He had a friendly face, with a short beard and familiar-looking blue eyes framed by deep laugh lines that grew more pronounced when he smiled. Belle had the oddest feeling that she had met the man before, but she couldn't place him.

Belle smiled back as she stepped away from the door and approached the counter. "Maybe. My father asked me to pick up a guitar that you repaired for him. His name is Maurice DuPont?"

The man's eyes lit in recognition. "Yes, I just called him about that instrument this morning. My nephew was working on that one. He's just wrapping up a lesson, so if you give me a minute, I'll have him bring it out for you." Belle nodded in agreement.

A few moments later, a young girl came barreling through a doorway behind the counter with a small guitar case in her hand. "Bye, Mr. Prince!" she called to the man behind the counter as she joined an older woman waiting in the store, who Belle assumed was the girl's mother.

"See you next week!" the man answered with a cheerful wave. And that was when a regrettably familiar second figure emerged from the doorway. "Ah, Adam, there you are!" the man smiled. "This young lady is here to pick up the guitar you finished fixing this morning."

Belle suppressed a groan as she found herself once again locking eyes with Adam Prince. Judging by the scowl on Adam's face, he wasn't any more pleased to see her than she was to see him. "You again," he stated flatly.

His uncle somehow seemed to miss the palpable disdain in this greeting. "Do you two know each other?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," Belle muttered at the same time that Adam answered, "No."

Adam's uncle smiled in amusement. "Ok," he said slowly. "Well, Adam, why don't you bring that guitar out?" Adam looked grateful for the opportunity to escape, even if it was only temporary. When he returned with a guitar case in hand a minute later, his uncle turned to Belle. "Do you have a car with you, miss?"

"No," Belle answered. "Should I have brought one?"

"Well, the guitar is a little bit heavy. How are you getting it home?"

"I was just going to walk," Belle frowned. "I only live a few blocks away."

Adam's uncle hummed doubtfully. "I have a bag of supplies that your dad ordered as well - extra strings, picks, a fretting kit. I'm not trying to be sexist, but it's going to be a little awkward trying to carry all of this on your own. If you only live a few blocks away, I'm sure Adam would be happy to go with you and help carry everything," he offered. Adam's eyebrows shot up in surprise; he looked anything _but_ happy about his uncle's offer. In fact, he looked as if there were nothing he'd like less than to walk Belle home.

"Oh, that's really not necessary," Belle responded quickly over Adam's stammered protests.

"Nonsense," his uncle waved his hand. "Adam's done with his lessons for the day, and the shop is pretty quiet right now. I can manage on my own for a few minutes." He handed a large bag to Belle and held the door open as she dazedly exited the shop with Adam following reluctantly behind her.

Belle stood on the sidewalk in silence, momentarily stunned to find herself stuck once again with Adam Prince. She couldn't believe her luck. She had successfully evaded Gaston, only to find herself in the company of someone even more unpleasant, if such a thing were possible. How had this happened? "Are we going to stand here all night?" Adam snapped impatiently.

Belle shot him a dirty look. "Of course not. Follow me," she instructed, heading toward the nearest corner.

"I can't believe I got forced into this," Adam grumbled once they were out of earshot of his uncle's shop. "Like I don't have anything better to do."

"_Hey_," Belle shot back defensively, "I'm not any happier about this than you are. It certainly wasn't _my_ idea to have you tag along." She quickened her steps; the sooner she got home, the sooner she could be rid of Prince Charming back there. She smirked, mentally congratulating herself for coming up with that clever nickname.

"No, but it was your idea to try to carry all this stuff home by yourself," Adam grunted.

Belle stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk and whirled to face him. "_Look_, I didn't ask for your help, and I certainly don't _want_ it. And your uncle can't even see us right now. So why don't you just give me the guitar? Then I can walk the rest of the way home in peace, you get some time to do ... whatever better things you have to do, and your uncle gets to believe you've been a perfect gentleman. Everybody's happy." _Or almost everybody_, Belle thought. It was hard to imagine Adam ever being happy about _anything_. Seriously, did people really let this guy give their kids music lessons?

"So you want me to lie to my uncle?" Adam asked, as if the suggestion had deeply offended him. Belle shrugged. Was it really that big of a deal to him? Adam glared at her. "Not happening." Belle narrowed her eyes at him before sighing in exasperation.

"Fine, then let's just get this over with," she conceded as she trudged on.

"Fine with me," Adam replied. He muttered a few more things under his breath that Belle didn't catch, but she assumed that that was probably for the best. When it came to Adam Prince, she decided, ignorance was definitely bliss. The guy was turning out to be a royal pain in the -

"Ask me about our dinner specials!" sang a young man from the entrance of a restaurant a few feet ahead of them. "Miss, perhaps you and your boyfriend would like to come in for dinner? We make the best cheese souffle in town!" he suggested as Belle and Adam passed the door.

"He's _not_ my boyfriend," Belle spat, and the young man retreated a few steps at the sharpness of her tone. _Great_, she thought. _Now Adam is rubbing off on _me.

They walked the next few blocks in a silence that was anything but companionable. Belle marched several feet ahead of Adam, but she didn't need to look back to make sure that he was still following; she swore she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head the whole way. When her apartment building finally came into view, Belle swallowed back a sigh of relief that threatened to escape her lips. There was no sense in goading Adam when she was so close to finally being rid of him. She stopped at the corner, waiting for the light to change. Adam let out a breath and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his free hand. "How much further is your place?" he griped.

Belle rolled her eyes. "It's just across the street. See that building on the corner?"

"It's about time," he muttered under his breath. "I thought you said it was only a few blocks."

"Oh for crying out loud," Belle mumbled irritably. "Just give it to me." She yanked the guitar case from his hand and turned on her heel, and that's when several things happened at once. As she stepped into the crosswalk, she was dimly aware of a voice shouting her name. She was jerked violently backward, and her hair whipped in front of her face as a large object rushed past, coming within inches from where she had just been standing. Her surroundings seemed to blur together before her eyes, and she lost her grip on the guitar case as she tumbled to the ground. 


	4. Somebody Get Me a Doctor

When Belle caught her breath, she realized she had landed on Adam, and she quickly scrambled off of him in embarrassment. "What just happened?" she asked him shakily.

Adam winced in pain as he brushed his scraped palms on the legs of his jeans. "Some idiot in a Jaguar sped up to make that turn as the light was changing, and he almost flattened you. Are you ok?"

Belle checked herself quickly. "Yeah, I think so." She looked at Adam and noticed that the knee of one leg of his jeans had ripped. The flesh beneath was torn and bleeding profusely. "Oh my gosh, Adam - your knee." She pointed.

"It's fine," Adam replied. "It's just - _oh God_!" he moaned as he looked down. He went pale at the sight of the blood, and for a second Belle was afraid he was going to pass out.

"You're ok!" she hurried to reassure him. "Let's just get you inside, and I can get it cleaned up for you. Can you stand on it?"

"I think so," Adam said, still visibly pale as he struggled to his feet. Belle hurried to his side, allowing him to lean on her for support. "Wait, what about the guitar?" he exclaimed as she urged him forward.

Belle glanced at the guitar case lying a few feet away. "I'll come back for it once I get you inside."

"Like hell you will. Do you know how much time I spent repairing that?"

Belle rolled her eyes. "Fine. Hang on." She ducked out from under his arm and retrieved the guitar before returning to his side. "Happy?" she demanded as she used one arm to support Adam and the other to support her bag and hoist the guitar, which actually _was_ surprisingly heavy. Adam grunted in response. "Good, then let's go."

She managed to get both Adam and the guitar through the front door of her building, but she had to leave the guitar in the lobby in order to help Adam up the flight of steps to her apartment on the second floor. Adam scowled, but didn't protest. As he placed his foot on the first step, he felt something squish in his shoe, and he looked down to see that his sock was nearly saturated with blood. His knees buckled as another pitiable moan escaped his lips, and Belle struggled to keep him upright when his eyes began to roll back. "Seriously?" she asked in a voice tinged with amusement. "How can the sight of a little blood bother you that much? You're in a metal band!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Adam gasped out.

"Don't you guys wear lots of makeup and crazy costumes and ... bite the heads off of bats and stuff?" she asked.

Adam made a choking noise. "Did you see _anything_ like that at our show?"

"Well no," Belle admitted. "But I was waiting for it."

Adam rolled his eyes, but Belle took comfort in the fact that it was in sarcasm this time, and not a sign that he was on the verge of losing consciousness. He was much larger than she, and she didn't think she was capable of dragging his limp body all the way to her apartment by herself. Not to mention it would raise some _very_ awkward questions if one of her neighbors happened upon them. She intentionally kept him talking until they finally reached the second floor landing, and Belle helped him hobble down the hallway and through her door. She settled him on her couch with a stern warning not to bleed on anything and then rushed off to the bathroom to retrieve her first aid kit.

She returned to the living room and sat down on the coffee table across from Adam. "Can you roll the leg of your jeans up for me?" she asked as she dug through the kit that was balanced on her lap. She bit back a laugh as she watched him try to roll his jeans without looking at the wound. "Here, let me," she offered, putting a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages to the side as she waved his hands away. She tried not to admire the way his muscled calf flexed as she gently rolled the jeans up to get a better look at his knee. It was messy looking, but from what she could see, the scratches didn't appear to be too deep. "I don't think it's as bad as it looks," she said in her most reassuring tone.

"If you say so," Adam agreed, staring hard at the large book shelf across the room.

Belle poured some of the rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and gently turned his knee toward her. "Just hold still, ok?"

Adam hissed loudly as she applied the alcohol. "That hurts!" he exclaimed, jerking his knee back.

"Well if you'd hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much!" Belle retorted as she dove after his retreating knee.

"This wouldn't have happened if you would've just watched where you were going," Adam mumbled, glaring at her.

"I probably_ would_ have paid more attention to where I was going if I hadn't been in such a hurry to get away from _you_," Belle answered angrily.

"You should have just let me carry the damn guitar," Adam reproached.

"Maybe I would have if you hadn't been acting like such a jerk!" Belle cried in exasperation. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to collect her emotions, and then reached for his knee once more. "I'm almost done. Just hold still; this might sting a little," she warned. Adam gritted his teeth as Belle patted the alcohol-soaked cotton along the gashes, but he obediently held still. She finished cleaning his knee in silence, and when she had secured the last bandage, she looked up at him. "All done. By the way," she said quietly, "thank you. You probably saved my life back there." The truth of that statement was finally starting to sink in, and she suddenly felt like crying, but there was no way she was going to do that in front of _him_.

Adam looked at her in surprise. "You're welcome," he responded softly.

Belle swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water would be nice. Thanks," Adam answered.

Belle got up and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water for Adam, marveling over the fact that he had just said "thanks." She was about to pour a glass for herself when she heard him gasp. She spun to face the living room. "What's wrong? Is your knee ok?"

"No - I mean, it's fine! It's just - is that the new _Song of Ice and Fire_ book?" Adam asked, pointing to the coffee table.

"Oh, that," Belle sighed in relief. "Yes, it is."

"But how do you have it?" Adam asked, clearly awed. "It doesn't come out for another two weeks!"

"I'm a book critic, remember," Belle reminded him as she handed him a glass. "The publisher sent it to me to review."

"Oh, right," Adam nodded. His eyes darted back to the book; a bookmark was wedged into the pages, very close to what appeared to be the end. "What do you think of it so far?" he asked curiously.

Belle returned to her perch on the edge of the coffee table. "So far, I'd say it's the best book in the series since the third one," she said slowly. "There's a twist about a quarter of the way through that I think will end up being a real game changer, and it comes out of literally nowhere. And it indirectly involves one of my favorite characters, so -"

"Stop, stop!" Adam interrupted her rambling review. "You'll spoil it!"

"Oh, I would never do that!" Belle insisted. "But you have to admit," she added slyly, "it is pretty crazy that Tyrion turned out to be Jon Snow's brother. I mean, who would've expected _that_?" That earned a small smile from Adam, and Belle decided that he looked nice when he smiled. It softened his angular features and was a welcome change from the permanent scowl that seemed to grace his face, at least when he was around her. "So have you read the rest of the series?" she asked him.

Adam nodded. "I've been waiting for this book for _ages_."

"Me too," Belle agreed.

Adam gestured to the book shelf. "Are all of these books that you've reviewed for work?"

"Most of them are my own books, actually," Belle said. "Although I have kept a few books that I reviewed that I really liked."

Adam hummed thoughtfully. "You like a lot of the same stuff that I do."

"_Really_?" Belle asked. "Do you read a lot?"

"Does that surprise you?" Adam asked defensively.

"That you like to read? No." Belle understood the lure of a good book as well as anyone. "I guess I am surprised that we read a lot of the same things though. What kinds of books do you read?"

Adam shrugged. "Sci-fi and fantasy mostly, some history and music biographies. What do you read?"

"A lot of the same," Belle said with a smile. "But my favorites are probably fairy tales. _Don't_ laugh," she added in a warning tone.

"Why would I laugh?" he asked in honest puzzlement.

"You don't think it's odd for an adult to read fairy tales?"

"Not really," Adam answered. "A lot of my favorite metal songs are based on - well, if not exactly fairy tales, stories that have fantasy elements, at least. It's pretty much the same thing."

"You're joking," Belle stated skeptically.

"No," Adam insisted. He limped over to the wall and pulled a copy of _The Hobbit_ from the her book shelf. "You've heard of Led Zeppelin, right?" When Belle nodded her head, he continued, "Off the top of my head, I can think of almost half a dozen of their songs that reference this series."

Belle laughed. "There are metal songs about _The Hobbit_?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, kind of," Adam nodded earnestly. "I mean, they're not literal retellings, but some of their songs allude to different events in the books. Some people even swear that the entire first verse of 'Ramble On' is about Frodo's journey to Mordor, but that's kind of open to interpretation." He shrugged. "Oh, and there's Blind Guardian - they wrote an entire _album_ that was based on _The Silmarillion_."

Belle's lips quirked up in a wry smile. "I had a hard time getting through that one."

"Me too," Adam agreed. "The album's a lot less tedious though. It's kind of like Spark Notes set to music."

Belle laughed. "That sounds kind of interesting, actually."

"It is. It kind of gives you a different way of looking at the stories." Adam jumped slightly when his pocket buzzed. He pulled his phone out and spoke briefly with the person on the other end of the line. He snapped his phone closed and looked at the time. "Whoa! That was my uncle; he wanted to make sure we were ok. I guess I didn't realize how long I've been gone. I have to get back."

Belle felt a pang of disappointment; their conversation had taken an unexpectedly interesting - and dare she say, _pleasant_ - turn. Adam might have said more to her in the last few minutes than he had said during Chip's entire interview. And much to her shock, she had actually started to enjoy his company. "Do you need help getting back?" she asked him with concern.

Adam tested his leg. "No, I should be fine. It's still a bit sore, but I can get around. I just ... won't look down. Thanks for cleaning me up, by the way."

Belle smiled at him. "You're welcome," she said sincerely. She walked with him to the lobby on the pretense of retrieving her father's guitar, but really, she wanted to make certain that he was able to walk without assistance. Satisfied that his leg seemed to be doing much better, she watched him exit the building with a thoughtful smile on her face. Chip was right, she conceded; maybe Adam _wasn't_ so bad, once you got to know him. She had definitely seen a side to him that she hadn't seen the night of the concert, and it was a side that she was slightly alarmed to admit she liked.


	5. Redemption

Adam stared up at the ceiling, head tilted back as he spun lazily in his chair. He noted with some apathy the number of pencils he had lodged into the acoustic tile overhead, and he wondered briefly whether he should retrieve them before his uncle saw. He had locked himself in the office during a break between guitar lessons in the hope that the peace and quiet would help him come up with some potential topics for his master's thesis, which were due to his adviser by the end of the week. But the screen of the computer in front of him remained stubbornly blank except for his name and expected graduation date.

A knock on the door startled him from his studied procrastination. "How's it going?" his uncle stuck his head in the office to inquire. Adam straightened up abruptly in the chair. "That good, huh?" Vinnie observed with a laugh.

Adam shrugged. "It's harder than I thought it would be."

His uncle patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Well, keep at it. Sometimes inspiration strikes when you least expect it. I'll be up front, but let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks, Uncle Vinnie. I will." But Adam knew he wouldn't be asking his uncle for help, just like he knew that his problem wasn't lack of inspiration. It was distraction. His mind was occupied with something - or rather some_one_ - else: Belle. He had barely been able to stop thinking about her since the previous afternoon.

He'd never encountered anyone quite like her. She was beautiful, obviously - he'd noticed that right away. But that wasn't really what had intrigued him about her. He'd met enough good looking girls with whom he could barely carry a conversation to understand that beauty was a novelty that could wear off quickly. In Belle's case, though, she actually became _more_ interesting to him as he spent more time around her.

She hadn't fawned over him like the girls who usually hung around backstage tended to do. Not that he had wanted her to; unlike his bandmates, he had never enjoyed fending off the advances of a woman whose interest in him was purely superficial. Still, it had surprised him when he had acted like a jerk to her - because he had, he could admit that much - and she had called him on it. Even yesterday, when he had helped her carry the guitar home and she had cleaned up his knee for him, she hadn't seemed intimidated by his hostility; she had stood her ground. He hadn't wanted to admit it at the time, but he respected that. He hadn't _liked_ it, but he respected it.

And he had been surprised to learn that they had more in common than their seemingly mutual dislike for each other. He thought again, enviously, of the book he had discovered on her coffee table. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on an advance copy of _that_. And she had read _The Silmarillion!_ It wasn't even close to being his favorite Tolkien book, but he was always impressed when he met someone else who had managed to get through it. Even Lumiere had given up on it the one time Adam had lent him his copy, and he was almost as big a Tolkien fan as Adam was.

She had been kind to him too, despite his unfriendliness. Sure, she had spent most of the journey to her apartment either verbally sparring with him or trying her best to get rid of him. But when he had needed help, she had offered it without hesitation. She had brought him into her home and tended to the wounds that he had been too nauseated to even look at. He remembered uncomfortably how he had almost passed out on her. She hadn't even made fun of him for it. Well that wasn't true - she _had_, a little, but she could have given him a much harder time about it. If the situation had been reversed, he wasn't sure that he would have done the same, and it had been his own damn fault that he'd gotten hurt anyway. And that she had _almost_ gotten hurt.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really apologized for that, had he? He remembered trying to turn it around and blame _her_ for the incident (even though he knew, with certainty, that it wasn't her fault), but even when the two of them had calmed down enough to treat each other civilly, he had still failed to utter the words "I'm sorry." For some reason, it bothered him to think that she might believe he still blamed her. A rush of heat crept into his face; he knew he owed her an apology. But he wasn't used to admitting that he was wrong, and figuring out how exactly to go about doing that, sincerely, was turning out to be even harder than coming up with topics for his thesis.

* * *

Belle returned from a meeting with her editor later that afternoon to find an enormous flower arrangement and a small, flat package sitting on her desk. Trying to ignore the curious stares from her coworkers, she extracted the tiny envelope from the foliage and slid out the card.

_Sorry about yesterday. Thanks again for your help. -A_

_P.S. - Let me know what you think about track 7._

Belle stifled a laugh. Adam was certainly a man of few words, but the gesture was surprisingly sweet, especially considering the fact that twenty-four hours ago, they couldn't stand the sight of each other. Excitedly, she unwrapped the package to reveal a copy of _Led Zeppelin II_. Frowning in puzzlement, she turned the jewel case over and skimmed the track listing for the seventh song: "Ramble On." _Right_, she remembered with a smile. _The hobbit song_.

"Whoa!" a voice to her left exclaimed. Belle turned to see Chip staring, wide-eyed, at the flowers. "Looks like Gaston decided to step up his game, huh?" he asked in a low voice.

"They're not from Gaston," Belle replied in an equally low voice, passing him the card.

"'A?'" Chip asked, puzzled.

"_Adam_," Belle clarified.

"Adam _Prince_?" Chip squeaked, causing several of their coworkers to look up.

"_Shhh_, yes," Belle whispered, gesturing for Chip to keep his voice down.

"What's going on?" Chip asked, his eyes going even wider. "I thought you couldn't stand him?"

"I might have ... misjudged him," Belle admitted. "I ran into him yesterday, and he kind of saved me from being hit by a car."

At this, Chip's eyes looked nearly ready to pop out of his head. "Are you _ok_?"

"I'm fine," Belle reassured him. "Not even a scratch, thanks to Adam."

Chip nodded in relief. Then he smiled slyly. "I _told_ you he liked you," he said smugly.

Belle rolled her eyes. "Calm down, Chip. He_ tolerates_ me, at best."

"Those aren't the kind of flowers you send to a girl you _tolerate_," Chip insisted. He peered over her shoulder at the object in her hands. "What's with the CD?" Belle held it up for him to see. "Ooh, _Led Zeppelin II_! That's a good one. Did Adam send you that, too? _Why_?"

"He told me they wrote a song about _The_ _Lord of the Rings_. I guess he wants me to listen to it," she shrugged.

Chip bobbed his head. "Yeah, they wrote a bunch of them. They were big fans. I think Robert Plant even had a dog named Strider at some point."

"Who?"

"Strider. _You_ know, Aragorn." Chip looked at her sideways.

Belle shot him a look full of exasperation. "I know _that_. I mean who's Robert Plant?"

"Ooooh! He's their lead singer," Chip replied, gesturing to the CD. "You should definitely give the album a listen," he suggested. "It's classic." Catching their editor's eye, he added, "Looks like Angelique wants me. Talk to you later. Enjoy the music - and the flowers!" He winked at her before hurrying down the hall to their editor's office.

Belle sat in her seat and looked at the CD in her hand. Curiously, she plugged a set of earbuds into her computer and popped the disk into the CD player. She cued track 7 and leaned back, looking thoughtfully at the flowers as a pleasant guitar melody drifted through the earbuds: "Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way ..."

* * *

On her way home after work, Belle decided to stop at the music shop and see if Adam was working that day. She told herself that it was simply because she wanted to thank him for the flowers, which was, after all, the polite thing to do. And she didn't know where he lived, she reasoned, so it wasn't as if she could send a thank-you card. A quick peek in the window revealed that Adam was sitting behind the counter strumming a guitar, but that the shop was otherwise empty. Adam was so focused on whatever it was he was playing that he didn't seem to notice Belle approaching. "So is the girl supposed to be the 'One Ring?'" Belle asked.

Adam jumped and fumbled his pick. However, the scowl that had immediately spread across his face vanished when he looked up and saw who had spoken. "Belle!" he exclaimed. Belle thought she saw a hint of a smile fighting its way onto his face, but she couldn't be sure.

"I wanted to stop by and say thank you for the flowers and the CD. They weren't necessary, but they were really lovely." Left unspoken was her gratitude for the apology itself. She didn't want to embarrass him by bringing it up, but she hoped that he understood that she appreciated the sentiment. "How is your knee feeling, by the way?" she asked.

"It's good," Adam nodded. "You were right, it's not as bad as it originally looked." He winced at the memory. Then, finally seeming to remember her first question, he looked back up at her. "You listened to the song?"

"I listened to the whole album," Belle acknowledged. "And it was really good. Not at all what I expected."

"No animal mutilations?" Adam asked with a smirk.

Belle rolled her eyes. "No. I actually liked it a lot. But I wasn't quite sure about 'Ramble On.' I mean, it was a good song," she rushed to assure him. "And it did _mention_ Mordor and Gollum. But is it about a girl? Or is the girl the Ring?"

Adam shrugged. "That's what fans have been debating since it was recorded. Some people believe the references to Mordor and Gollum are just non-specific allusions. You can find stuff like that throughout Led Zeppelin's work - they're big Tolkien fans, and they're notorious for writing nonsensical lyrics. Other people insist that the entire song is about the journey to Mordor, and that the 'girl' is a metaphor for the Ring."

"And what does the band say?" Belle asked.

"They don't," Adam replied. "They've never explained it one way or the other, although they've admitted being fans."

"Well what do you think?" Belle pressed.

Adam looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can definitely see where the second interpretation comes from. I just don't know if the band meant to be that literal. But it's fun to kind of analyze the lyrics and think about what they might mean."

"That's what I think too," Belle agreed. "And you're right, it did make me think about the books in a different way. I kind of want to go back and read them all again now."

Adam actually did smile at that - a genuine smile, and Belle was struck again by how much more handsome he looked when he was happy. The way the expression reached his eyes would make any girl melt. "How many times have you read them?"

"Oh, I've lost count," Belle admitted, blushing slightly as she tried to push her unvoiced thoughts aside. "They're some of my favorites. I actually had to replace my original copies because they got so worn out."

Adam laughed. "Me too."

Belle smiled back at him, and as her eyes met his, she marveled again at how _blue_ they were. She cleared her throat and looked away before he caught her staring. "Well, I should probably get going. I just wanted to stop and say 'thank you.'"

Adam's face fell. "Do you have to go already?"

She looked back at him curiously. "Well, I _was_ on my way home. And I still have to figure out what to make for dinner."

"Oh," Adam said, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that tugged at Belle's heart for reasons she couldn't identify. "Well, I was about to go out and get something to eat. Do you want to come with me?" Belle raised her eyebrows - did Adam just ask her out to dinner? "I'm kind of curious to hear what you thought about the rest of the album," he explained hurriedly. "It's one of my favorites."

"Ok," Belle nodded slowly. "That sounds nice."

"Great," Adam sighed in relief. "Just let me grab my stuff and lock up, and I'll meet you out front."

As Belle waited for Adam out on the sidewalk, she remembered Chip's teasing remarks about the flowers and wondered if perhaps there had been some truth to them. More alarmingly, she wondered if she _wanted_ there to be some truth to them. She shook her head vigorously, as if attempting to physically dislodge these disquieting thoughts. But she couldn't stop her heart from giving a little jump when Adam met her at the door and gestured for her to follow him.


	6. Tell Me Everything

When she thought about it later (and she did, several times, at length), Belle still wasn't sure that she could explain exactly how she ended up sitting across the table from Adam Prince in Molyneaux's only Ethiopian restaurant. At least, she _assumed_ it was Molyneaux's only Ethiopian restaurant - until that evening, she hadn't known a place like it even existed. They spent several minutes pleasantly chatting about the Led Zeppelin album he had given her (they agreed that "Thank You" was a beautiful love song, but Belle didn't understand what "Moby Dick" had to do with the whale of the same name) before their waitress returned with a huge platter. On the platter were several smaller plates, each containing a dish of a different color that appeared to be some kind of stew. There was a green stew that Belle assumed contained spinach, an orange one that was probably carrot, and some sort of gray stuff that Belle couldn't quite identify. Belle had never eaten Ethiopian food, but Adam seemed to be a regular here, so she had let him order. The food smelled delicious, and her stomach rumbled in approval.

She glanced down at her place setting, then looked to Adam's. He watched her glance around at the neighboring tables in confusion. "Is everything ok?" he asked.

Belle frowned. "I think the waitress forgot to bring us utensils."

Adam smirked. "You've never had Ethiopian food, have you?"

Belle's frown deepened. "No ..."

"Follow me," Adam instructed. He selected a piece of flat, spongy bread from a second, smaller platter. He tore off a corner of the bread and used it to scoop up some of the green stew from the larger platter. Belle watched him with interest, and then attempted to imitate him, clumsily dipping her bread into the orange stew. Adam mock toasted her with his bread before taking a large bite out of it. Belle saluted back with her own bread and bit into it. Her eyes lit up.

"This is delicious!" she exclaimed.

"Not too spicy for you?" Adam asked.

"No, it's really good!" Belle insisted. Adam smiled, clearly pleased that she liked the food. He patiently answered her questions as she asked him what each of the different dishes contained, and before they knew it, they had nearly cleared the platter. By the time the waitress came to retrieve the empty dishes, Belle didn't think she could eat another bite, but Adam somehow managed to talk her into splitting a dessert.

"So how do you know so much about the food?" Belle asked curiously as the waitress set their dessert on the table. "Do you come here_ that _often?"

Adam laughed. "Kind of. But I also ate a lot of this stuff when I lived in Ethiopia."

"You lived in _Ethiopia_?" Belle repeated incredulously.

Adam nodded. "I spent a few years there when I was a kid. My parents were in the Foreign Service," he explained. "We lived all over the place when I was growing up."

"Really?" Belle leaned forward excitedly. "Like where?"

"Different places in Africa and Europe mostly. I was actually born in France."

"It must have been _amazing_ to grow up in all of those different places," Belle mused enviously. "I would have given anything to have had that kind of experience."

"No, you wouldn't," Adam said firmly.

"Why not?" Belle asked. "You probably got to experience all kinds of things that most other kids _never_ get the chance to."

"Yeah, like never being able to make real friends, because every two or three years you have to move and leave them all behind," Adam said bitterly. "Like being shipped off to relatives you barely know and not getting to see your parents for months at a time because they've been assigned to 'hardship' posts. Trust me, it wasn't as exciting as it sounds. It was a pretty lonely existence for a kid."

"I guess I didn't think about it that way," Belle admitted, slightly taken aback. "I lived in the same place for my entire life, or at least I did until I left for college. I used to dream about leaving and having adventures in new places, meeting new people. I always thought my life was just so _boring_."

"And see, I think_ that _sounds amazing," Adam countered. "I would have given anything just to have had a bedroom that actually felt like _my_ room, and not one that I was just borrowing from someone else for a while. A place where I could actually allow myself to get used to being there. A _home_."

"It didn't really _feel_ like home to me," Belle said softly. "I just felt _stuck_. I never fit in with the kids I grew up with. I mean, I saw the same kids practically every day of my life, but I barely knew them. There was no one I could really talk to."

"Why not?" Adam asked.

"We didn't really share the same interests. They all thought I was odd because I read so much, and I couldn't understand why they wanted to waste so much time playing video games or chasing after boys."

"Hey, I'm with you on the chasing boys thing, but don't knock video games until you've tried them," Adam joked, eliciting a small smile from Belle. "Seriously, though, I feel bad for those kids if they had the chance to know you and missed out." This time, Belle's smile widened as she glanced down at the table to hide her blush. "So how did moving here to Molyneaux work out for you then? It isn't really the place I would have picked for fun and excitement, but did you at least find the adventure that you were looking for?"

"It's _different_," Belle answered with a shrug. "But I'm not sure if I feel like it's where I belong. At least not yet; I've only been here for a few weeks. How about you? Have you been here a long time?"

"Almost eight years," Adam confirmed. "But it didn't really work out the way I expected it to." Belle tilted her head inquisitively. "My parents resigned from the Foreign Service when I was fourteen," Adam explained, "and we moved back to the States so that I could have a 'real' high school experience. They thought that was important, and I was really excited about it. But they were killed in a car accident a few months after school started, and I wound up being sent here to live with my uncle. I've been here ever since."

"Adam, I'm _so_ sorry," Belle said sympathetically, reaching across the table to grab his hand before she could think about what she was doing. "I lost my mom when I was in high school; I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would have been like if I'd lost Papa, too."

Adam looked down at their hands curiously but made no move to pull away. "I'm sorry about your mom," he offered quietly. Belle gave a small shrug in return.

"Can I get you anything else?" The waitress's voice behind him caused Adam to jump in his seat, and he instinctively retracted his hand from Belle's grasp. He looked at Belle questioningly, and she shook her head in response.

"Just the check, please," he requested. He turned back to Belle with a wry smile. "I guess getting what we wanted didn't exactly end up being all it was cracked up to be for either of us," he observed.

"Well, there's still time," Belle offered hopefully.

Adam laughed softly. "Yeah, maybe there is." He smiled across the table at Belle, and she couldn't help but smile back at him. When the waitress returned with the check, Adam insisted on paying for dinner despite Belle's offer to split the bill.

"First you send me flowers, then you take me to dinner. If I didn't know better, I'd think this was a date." Belle's tone was teasing, but she was surprised to discover that she didn't really mind the idea. If she was honest, she had enjoyed the evening a lot more than many "real" dates she had been on.

"Well if it makes you feel better, you can get dinner next time," Adam grinned as he held the door open for her.

"Deal," Belle agreed.

Adam offered to walk her home, and as he ambled beside her, there was one issue that continued to nag Belle. She hesitated to bring it up and risk ruining the amiable rapport they'd settled into. But she was having trouble wrapping her brain around the fact that she had just spent a very enjoyable evening with the same Adam Prince who, as recently as the day before, had seemed unable to stand being in the same room with her. She couldn't figure out what had caused such a drastic change in his attitude.

She took a deep breath. "Adam, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he replied casually.

"Why were you so unfriendly to me the night we met at the concert?" Adam froze. Belle could tell from the look on his face that he had not been expecting _that_ question. He didn't look angry that she had asked it though, only startled and slightly terrified, like an animal caught in the glare of oncoming headlights. "It's just - I had a really nice time with you tonight," she hurried on. "You're obviously not the jerk that I thought you were." At this, she reddened. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, I'm just trying to understand what happened. If I did something ..."

"You didn't do anything," Adam interjected quickly. "I made a mistake. I saw a beautiful girl hanging around backstage, and I assumed you were a groupie. It would usually be a pretty good assumption, but in this case it wasn't."

"You think I'm beautiful?" Belle asked in surprise. Adam rolled his eyes as if this was the most absurd question he'd ever heard. "Oh," Belle replied in a small voice. "But wait a minute, I told you I _wasn't_ a groupie. You knew I wasn't, but you continued to act like you couldn't wait to get rid of me."

"Well, we'd kind of already gotten off on the wrong foot," Adam mumbled feebly, echoing Belle's thoughts from the night in question. "You'd already decided that I was a jerk."

"Sure, but you could have just apologized for the mistake and moved on," Belle pointed out.

"And that would have _worked_?" Adam asked doubtfully. And that's when it hit Belle that perhaps everything that had happened since he'd saved her from that wayward car had been his way of trying to make up for his earlier beastly behavior. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips.

"Of course it would have worked. Are you sure you still want to pay for dinner now?" she asked, elbowing him gently in the side.

Adam gave her a lopsided smile. "That depends. You still buying next time?"

"Uh-huh," Belle answered.

"Then I'm good. And - I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk."

Belle beamed at him. "That's all right; I've already stopped holding it against you. I was just curious. I do appreciate the apology though."

Adam looked back at her in surprise. "You have?"

Belle shrugged. "Sure. It's hard to hold a grudge against a guy who gives you a Led Zeppelin CD."

Adam grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. _Not_ that I'm planning to get on your bad side again any time soon," he amended hastily.

Belle laughed. "I'm glad to hear it." By this point, they had drawn even with her building. "Well, thanks again for dinner. And the flowers and CD."

"You're welcome. We'll have to do it again sometime," Adam suggested.

"I'd like that. Good night, Adam." Belle waved as she disappeared through the door. It was only when he turned away from her building that Adam remembered he'd wanted to ask for her number. He slapped himself on the forehead as he trudged reluctantly down the block.


	7. Stranger in a Strange Land

Belle was craving wheat gluten. It sounded weird, but ever since she had found a flyer for a new vegan restaurant tucked underneath the door to her apartment the night before, she had been unable to think of much else. She wasn't actually a vegan - what sane person would give up ice cream? - but she had developed a taste for their cuisine after living with a hippie roommate for a year in college. She had even been a regular at the local vegetarian restaurant back in school, but had found Molyneaux to be sadly lacking when it came to meatless dining establishments.

"Hey, Chip," she greeted, wandering over to Chip's cubicle. "Wanna grab lunch? I was thinking of trying out a new vegan place over on Broad St."

Chip looked up from his computer. "Hey, Belle. A couple of the guys were actually talking about going for wings for lunch. You're welcome to come if you want."

Belle frowned. "Oh. I was really hoping to try this new place."

Chip shrugged. "Well, I guess I could go with you if you want. Do they have wings?"

"It's _vegan_," Belle repeated.

"So ... no wings then," Chip said. Belle shook her head. Chip bit his lip, clearly torn, but Belle knew he was only even considering going with her because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. She sighed.

"Don't worry about it, Chip. I'll come with you for wings."

Chip looked relieved. Then he smiled mischievously. "You know who'd _probably _take you up on lunch?"

Belle groaned. "Don't even say it. I'm not _that _desperate."

Chip laughed. "I didn't think so. But you have to admit, it would be funny to watch Gaston try to figure out what to order at a vegan restaurant. Do you know I once heard him tell one of the guys on the sports desk that he eats_ five_ _dozen_ eggs every morning?"

Belle made a face. "Gross."

"I know!" Chip laughed again. "Can you imagine what his cholesterol must be like? Anyway, everyone's meeting in the lobby at noon for lunch. See you there?"

"See you there," Belle agreed. She felt a pang of disappointment as she sat back down at her desk. She supposed she could have gone for lunch by herself, but eating at restaurants alone had always made her feel self-conscious. She considered inviting her father to go for dinner later, but she knew for a fact that there was nothing on the menu he would eat. It was times like this, Belle mused, when having more friends would have been nice. _You _do_ have more friends_, a voice in her head insisted. _What about Adam_?

Adam! She _did_ owe him a dinner, after all. And he seemed like the adventurous type - he'd lived all over the world, after all. He wouldn't be scared off by a little tofu. The only problem was, she hadn't gotten his number after they'd had dinner together the week before. _But I _do _know where he works_, she thought triumphantly. _I'll stop by after work and see if he wants to go for dinner_. Suddenly feeling much less disappointed, she grabbed her purse and left to meet Chip in the lobby.

* * *

As Belle pushed open the door of the music shop, she felt a little thrill of excitement. She told herself that it was because she was finally going to check out the new restaurant she'd been dying to visit and had nothing to do with the fact that she was about to see Adam. Adam's uncle was sitting behind the counter and looked up as she walked in. "Miss DuPont! Back already? I hope your dad isn't having any trouble with his guitar?"

"Oh, no, the guitar is great," Belle assured him. "I'm actually looking for Adam?"

Mr. Prince raised an eyebrow. "Really? He's right behind you," he said, pointing to a display across the floor where Adam had been arranging tuner pedals. Adam turned at the sound of Belle's voice.

"Belle!" Adam smiled. "I've been thinking about you. I mean - I was wondering how you were doing."

Belle smiled back. "I'm good. I was actually wondering if you felt like cashing in on that dinner I owe you?"

Adam glanced at his uncle. "I'm good here if you want to head out," his uncle said.

Adam smiled happily. "Dinner sounds great. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, there's a new vegan restaurant that just opened up at the corner of Broad St. and Fifth. I was thinking of trying that?"

"A vegan restaurant?" Adam repeated doubtfully.

"Well, we don't have to if you don't want to," Belle said quickly, face falling.

"No, no!" Adam interjected hastily. "Vegan food sounds ... great. Would you mind if we make a stop after so I can drop a drum key off with Cogsworth? I promised I'd bring it by tonight, and it sounds like the restaurant is right down the block from his place."

"Sure!" Belle agreed cheerfully.

* * *

A short time later, Belle and Adam found themselves being ushered to a small table in a tiny, but quaint, storefront. Altogether, there were probably only a dozen tables scattered across the floor of the entire establishment, each of them paired with a set of mismatched chairs. A long counter and a handful of stools provided minimal extra seating and a view to the open kitchen where several chefs were already toiling away.

Belle perused her menu thoughtfully, which was mostly unnecessary since she had already reviewed it on the restaurant's web site multiple times and decided on what to order several hours ago. She looked across the table at Adam, who was skimming his own menu with a look of slight bewilderment.

For his part, Adam didn't understand what half of the items on the menu even _were_. Tempeh? Chia? He'd had a cat once who had tried to eat a Chia Pet and ended up barfing it back up all over the kitchen floor. The memory didn't exactly make him eager to order a plate of the stuff. Adam glanced over as the waitress seated another couple at the next table. The couple appeared to be only a few years older than he and Belle. The girl was chattering excitedly about kale as she reviewed the menu, while the young man sitting across from her stared at his own menu with a dazed expression. He looked up, and he and Adam shared a knowing look, silently commiserating with each other. After a few minutes, their waitress reappeared to take their order.

"I'll have the barbecued seitan, please," Belle requested eagerly.

"_Satan_?" Adam repeated incredulously.

"No, no, _SAY_-tan," Belle corrected him.

"That's what I said," Adam frowned. "It's like even the name is trying to tell you than nothing good can come from eating it."

The waitress smirked as if she were used to this sort of misunderstanding. "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Um ... I'm not really sure," Adam answered. "Do you have any recommendations?"

"Well, what kinds of foods do you usually like to eat?" the waitress asked helpfully.

"Uh ...meat?" Adam offered feebly, as Belle gently kicked him under the table. "I mean, the usual stuff?" he shrugged.

"Do you like pizza?" the waitress suggested.

"Pizza is good," Adam said in relief.

"Our raw pizza is fantastic," the waitress replied. "You'll love it." Adam nodded uncertainly, and the waitress left to put their order in.

"What is _raw_ pizza?" Adam whispered desperately across the table, once the waitress was out of earshot.

"Well, I suppose it's uncooked," Belle mused thoughtfully.

"Thanks, that helps," Adam responded sarcastically. "Does that mean it's _cold_?"

"I thought guys loved cold pizza," Belle pointed out.

"We do, but at least cold pizza was cooked at _some _point," Adam groused.

The waitress returned a few minutes later with their food. Adam glanced down at his plate with trepidation. Much to his relief, his meal _looked_ like pizza, more or less. He lifted a piece to his lips cautiously, and Belle gave him an encouraging smile. He bit in, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it tasted - well, if not _exactly_ like pizza, still pretty decent. It wasn't the gooey, greasy, cheesy goodness that he was used to, but the sauce was fresh and flavorful, and that _almost_ made up for the fact that it was cold. He flashed Belle a thumbs up as he chewed around the dense crust and she smiled back at him proudly.

"So it's good?" she asked eagerly as he swallowed.

Adam considered his answer carefully. "It's not bad," he finally said. "But it would be better if they put it in the oven for a few minutes and threw some pepperoni on top." Belle rolled her eyes at him in amusement. "Here," he offered, "do you want to try a piece?"

"Sure," Belle said curiously, accepting a piece of pizza from him. He watched her as she took a bite, her expression giving away nothing as she chewed.

"Well?" he asked.

This time, he could see on her face that she was debating with herself mentally. "You're right," she admitted at last, grudgingly. "It's better cooked." Adam smiled, feeling vindicated. "Would you like to try some of mine? It's not raw," she added as she watched Adam glance at her food hesitantly. She scooped a few pieces of seitan onto her fork and transferred them to Adam's plate.

_What the heck?_ Adam thought. _At least they cooked this._ He stabbed a chunk of the strange looking stuff with his fork and lifted it to his mouth before he had time to reconsider. "Wow!" he exclaimed. This was _much_ better than what he had ordered. It had a chewy, almost meaty texture that he hadn't expected. And it was smothered in liberal amounts of barbecue sauce, which in his opinion could redeem just about anything. He immediately reached for more. "I'm definitely getting _this_ next time," he mumbled through another mouthful of wheat gluten and sauce. Belle beamed at him, and his stomach gave a slight lurch, though he couldn't tell whether it was a reaction to her smile or to the fake meat. In either case, he could tell that he had made Belle happy, and that alone had made the evening worth it. Perhaps he'd even work up the courage to stick around for one of those weird-looking desserts he had spied on the way in.

* * *

_No vegans were harmed in the writing of this chapter._


	8. Action! Not Words

Cogsworth's apartment building was only a few doors down from the restaurant. Belle stood quietly to the side as Adam knocked on a door about halfway down a well-lit hallway, and she was surprised when the door was answered by Lumiere; Adam hadn't mentioned that he and Cogsworth were roommates. Lumiere seemed equally surprised to see her standing in the hallway with Adam. "I brought Cogsworth's drum key," Adam announced, holding up a small bag.

"You brought a visitor too," Lumiere added, raising his eyebrows at Adam.

"Oh, right - Lumiere, you remember Belle? From the interview a couple of weeks ago?"

"Of course I remember Belle," Lumiere replied, giving them a dazzling smile. "Why don't the two of you come in?" The door swung open to reveal a large living room. Looking past Lumiere, Belle could see a pizza box sitting on a table. Beyond the table was a couch and a large-screen TV. The TV was frozen on a frame of a video game that Lumiere and Cogsworth had been playing before the interruption. "So where are the two of you off to?" Lumiere asked.

"Actually, we just finished having dinner at that new vegan place down the block," Adam explained.

"The one on the corner?" Cogsworth asked as he shuffled in with a can of soda and dropped onto the couch. "I've heard their raw pizza is fantastic."

"It was ... something," Adam agreed. "Speaking of pizza, do you guys mind?" he asked, gesturing toward the pizza box on the table. "I'm starving."

"Be our guest," Lumiere replied. "Belle, would you like a slice? Or a drink?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," Belle answered shyly.

"So what are you guys playing?" Adam asked, casting a curious glance at the TV. He took a large bite of pizza and closed his eyes blissfully as he savored the taste of the melted cheese - _real_ cheese, and not some poor impostor made from mashed up cashews or whatever the heck had been in his dinner. This was more like it.

"It's some new game that Cogsworth picked up today. Or rather, an old game that he couldn't resist buying for the nostalgia. You guys want in? We can play teams - I'll just get the extra controllers out," Lumiere offered.

Adam looked over at Belle and shrugged as if to ask, "What do you think?"

"I'm not really good at video games," Belle admitted apologetically.

"That's all right - this is a pretty easy game. You get points every time you shoot one the other team's spaceships, and whichever team has the most points at the end wins. You can be on my team if you like - I've already kicked Cogsworth's butt four times tonight," Lumiere boasted proudly.

"I thought _I_ was usually on your team," Cogsworth protested.

"She's prettier," Lumiere replied matter-of-factly, handing a controller to Belle.

As the foursome settled onto the couch for their epic space battle, it quickly became clear that Belle was not being modest when she claimed to be no good at video games. Adam and Cogsworth jumped to an early and sizable lead, which they took every opportunity to gloat about. "You guys are barely on the board," Cogsworth taunted. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you two were out to launch." Belle joined Cogsworth in snickering at his bad pun, while Adam and Lumiere shot them disgusted looks.

"I'm sorry, Lumiere. I really think I'm dragging you down," Belle apologized. "Maybe we should switch up the teams every few games so that you don't get stuck with me all night?"

"What makes you think I would mind _that_?" Lumiere replied, waggling his eyebrows at her good-naturedly and causing Belle to blush furiously. His own attempts to shamelessly flirt with her had cost them almost as many points as her lack of skill had, but she wasn't about to point that out.

"You can be on my team next game, Belle," Cogsworth offered. "_I'll_ show you how to play properly. You just need a few pointers." Unfortunately, Cogsworth's idea of "pointers" consisted of mostly vague, nonsensical words of advice, such as "be the spaceship," and "you're thinking too hard." As a result, Belle's skills showed only slight improvement in the next game, and she couldn't say whether it was from Cogsworth's tips or just due to the fact that she was getting used to the game.

Finally, Belle was paired with Adam. "Looks like your winning streak is about to come to an end," Belle said sheepishly as they reset the game. And for the first few minutes, it certainly looked like she was right.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Adam said, after he'd been watching her play intently for a few minutes. He paused the game. "Belle, do you know what the different controller buttons are for?"

"Well, sure. They shoot, they move your spaceship, they control your speed ..."

"And which of those buttons does which of those things?" Belle reddened and shrugged. Adam laughed. "You're just mashing the buttons. Here, it helps if you know which buttons do what."

After a brief tutorial on the proper operation of the controller, they restarted the game. Much to her amazement, Belle's skills improved immediately. She was still nowhere near as good as Cogsworth, Lumiere, or Adam, but she had improved enough to give herself and Adam a slight lead in the game. That proved to be all the lead they needed, and they eventually won by a slim margin. She grinned excitedly as Adam reached over and high-fived her. "Nice job! We make a pretty good team!"

"Good game," Lumiere graciously congratulated them. "Are you up for one more?"

"Oh my, look at the time," Cogsworth interjected. "I don't think another game is in the cards tonight."

Lumiere glanced at the clock on the wall and did a double take. "You're right! I need to be up for work soon."

"You _do_?" Belle asked in surprise. Sure, it was late, but it wasn't even midnight yet.

"Lumiere is the morning DJ on WMMU," Adam explained. Belle recognized the call letters of the local rock station.

"You _are_? That must be exciting!" she exclaimed, obviously impressed.

"It is, most of the time," Lumiere agreed. "But the hours are slightly less than glamorous."

"And what do you do?" she asked curiously, turning to Cogsworth. It was funny; she knew the three men played together in a band, but had never considered what they might do for day jobs.

"I'm an aide to the mayor," Cogsworth said importantly. "I know everything that goes on at city hall."

"It's true," Adam acknowledged. "And he'll tell you _all_ about it, whether you want him to or not."

"I _want_ him to!" Belle nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure he must know all sorts of fascinating things."

Cogsworth smiled in vindication. "Adam, you really need to bring her by more often," he said to his friend. And that was how Belle ended up as a regular at Lumiere's and Cogsworth's video game nights.

Adam offered to walk Belle home, but she insisted on taking a cab so as not to delay him from getting to his own apartment any later. So instead, he walked her downstairs to wait for the cab with her. "You know," he said, "I should really get your number. I mean - if you don't mind that is ...," he trailed off.

Belle laughed. "I was thinking the same thing earlier today when I wanted to invite you for dinner." She pulled out her phone, and the two quickly exchanged numbers before the cab arrived. Adam waved as it pulled away from the curb, and then went back inside to retrieve his things and subject himself to what was certain to be an endless interrogation from his friends.

* * *

"Sooo, you and the book critic," Lumiere remarked conversationally the moment Adam opened the apartment door. Clearly, he didn't intend to give Adam a moment to get comfortable before he cut to the chase.

Adam's eyes widened in innocence. "Me and the book critic _what_?" He knew fully well what Lumiere was trying to get at. In fact, he had been preparing himself for this line of questioning since he had first arrived at the apartment with Belle in tow. He was glad that his friends had at least waited until Belle had gone home to begin the inquisition, but that didn't mean he was going to make it easy for them.

"You know what I mean. You _like_ her," Lumiere pressed.

"Sure I like her. She's a nice girl. _You_ guys like her, don't you?" Adam retorted, continuing to play dumb.

"Not in the same way that _you_ do," Cogsworth chimed in. Adam shrugged noncommittally.

"Oh, ok. So you wouldn't mind if I asked her out then?" Lumiere suggested casually. When this drew a frown from Adam, he laughed. "I thought so," he said smugly. "So how long has this been going on?"

Adam sighed; there was no use dancing around the issue any longer. "Not long. We've hung out twice including tonight. Three times if you count a shared near-death experience."

"Is _that_ why you were limping last week?" Cogsworth asked in amazement. Adam nodded.

"I _knew_ something was up when you were acting so weird during that interview," Lumiere boasted. "Although you weren't exactly turning on the charm then. What happened between then and now that made you finally come to your senses?"

"I fixed a guitar for her dad, and she came by the shop last week to pick it up. We, uh, got to talking, and when I actually got to know her, I realized how interesting and smart she is," Adam explained.

"And pretty," Lumiere supplied helpfully.

"That too," Adam acknowledged. He figured he could leave out the part about their argument and how the aforementioned near-death experience had been mostly his fault.

"I can't _believe_ you didn't tell us you had a girlfriend," Cogsworth sulked, shooting Adam a look full of reproach.

"_Wait_, I didn't say she was my girlfriend," Adam corrected his friend.

"But you _want_ her to be," Lumiere stated matter-of-factly.

"I like her. A _lot_," Adam admitted. "But I have no idea if she feels the same way about me. I mean, she admitted that she thought I was a jerk the first time we met."

"Well, you were definitely acting like one. But it seems like she's seen past that now," Lumiere observed. "She's willingly spending time with you, and I assume that that means she enjoys your company. So why don't you just come clean and tell her the truth?"

Adam shook his head. "I don't know. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I guess I'm afraid of scaring her off when she's finally starting to think better of me. What do _you_ think I should do?" he asked his friend. Lumiere had always been a lot better with girls than he had been; if anyone knew what to do, it would be him.

"Honestly, I think you should just tell her how you feel. But if you're not comfortable with the direct approach, then maybe you could do something to _show_ her how you feel," he suggested. "Her reaction will tell you whether she feels the same way that you do."

"Ok, so I should _do_ something for her," Adam nodded enthusiastically. "But - what?"

"Well, there's the usual things," Cogsworth offered. "Flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep ..."

"No, no, no," Lumiere interjected hastily. "It has to be something very special. Something that sparks her interest."

"_Like_ ...?" Adam looked at Lumiere questioningly.

"Well,_ I_ don't know," Lumiere replied. "Look, I don't have all of the answers," he continued gently when he saw his friend's disappointed face. "But you know her better than we do - you'll come up with something. Just think about what would be meaningful to her. What does she like?"

"She likes to read," Adam answered immediately. Then he frowned. "But she gets books all the time through work, and much sooner than I'd be able to get them for her." He sighed dejectedly.

"Fair enough," Lumiere acknowledged. "What else does she like?"

"Vegan food, apparently," Adam responded with a grimace. "But I think I've had my fill of _that_ for now."

"Agreed. You've already done that - this should be something different, something special," Lumiere mused.

"She's always wanted to travel," Adam said thoughtfully. "But I don't think we've quite reached that stage of the relationship yet."

"No, definitely not," Lumiere agreed. "That probably _would_ scare her off. And this doesn't have to be extravagant - that's not the point. The point is to show her that you listen and care about her interests."

Adam groaned. He flopped onto the couch and rubbed his temples. He _did_ listen to Belle. Heck, he could remember almost everything she'd ever said to him - even the less ... _friendly_ ... things. But it didn't help, because none of that was inspiring him to come up with something that he could do for her. "Why does she even have to know how I feel?" he complained.

"Because you want more out of your relationship with her," Lumiere explained patiently. "Or are you satisfied with just being her friend?"

"I could be, maybe" Adam responded, in a tone that didn't even convince himself. He knew it wasn't true. It was just easier - and a lot less terrifying - than the possibility of pouring his heart out to Belle and having her reject him.

Lumiere sighed knowingly. "And if your _friend_, Belle, started dating some other guy, you'd be ok with that?"

Adam sat up with a start. He hadn't even considered that possibility, but now that Lumiere had mentioned it, it caused his heart to sink swiftly. It _was_ possible, wasn't it? Belle was amazing; surely he couldn't be the only one who had noticed it. And she had no reason _not_ to date someone else, if she was asked. He shook his head vigorously as his mind conjured an image of Belle gazing adoringly at some other man; just the thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Lumiere sat on the coffee table, facing his friend. "Don't give up just because you're not able to think of something right away," he said sympathetically. "Sometimes the best ideas take some time to materialize. Just keep thinking about it, and keep listening. Maybe she'll give you the answer when you least expect it."

Adam nodded tiredly. Lumiere was right. Plus, now that he thought about it, he really liked the idea of doing something to make Belle happy. He thought about what it had felt like when she had smiled at him during dinner that night, and when she had high-fived him after their video game victory. He _wanted_ to be able to do something that would provoke that kind of reaction from her again. "Ok. I'll think about it."

"Great," Lumiere said encouragingly. "Now, I don't mean to be inhospitable, but can you think about it on your own couch? Because I really do need to get some sleep."


	9. The Last in Line

Adam had been thinking about Lumiere's advice, and he had spoken to Belle several times over the last few days, but he was still at a loss as to what he could do to show her how he felt. He wasn't sure why it was so difficult; everything he came up with just seemed woefully inadequate to convey the magnitude of his feelings. He had hoped he would have figured something out by the time he saw her next, but he finally had to admit to himself that he didn't want to wait that long to see her again.

During a lull between guitar lessons, he decided to give Belle a call and see if she wanted to meet for dinner. He scrolled through the short list of names stored in his phone until he reached hers, and quickly pushed the send button. His mood improved immediately when her voice greeted him after the second ring. He didn't want to monopolize her time during the workday, so after a brief exchange of pleasantries, he cut to the reason for his call. "Listen, are you busy tonight? Do you want to grab some takeout and rent a movie?"

"Oh, Adam, I'm sorry," Belle replied, and she truly did sound sorry, though this did little to assuage his disappointment. "I would really love to, but I'm going to be stuck here late tonight. I just found out that the publication date on a book I'm supposed to review got bumped up by _two_ weeks, so I have to scramble to put something together for my editor," she explained apologetically. "I would much rather hang out with you, but I don't really have a choice in the matter."

"It's ok," Adam assured her. "I totally understand; work comes first. I'm sorry that your night got ruined though."

Belle laughed ruefully. "Me too. One of my favorite authors is doing a book signing La Librairie tonight, and I've been looking forward to it for weeks. There's just no way I'm going to be able to get out of here long enough to make it over there though." She sighed. "But like you said, work comes first."

"Well, I don't want you to be stuck there any later than necessary, so I'll let you get back to your work," Adam offered.

"Ok, thanks for the invite. Maybe we can do it another night?" Belle suggested.

"Sure thing. Talk to you later, Belle."

"Bye, Adam."

Adam fought to suppress his excitement as he hung up the phone. He hadn't wanted Belle to think he was making light of her situation, but his brief conversation with her had given him a brilliant idea. He hurried over to his uncle's computer and pulled up the web site for La Librairie, a bookstore that was only a few blocks away from the music shop. Sure enough, prominently displayed on the home page was an advertisement for a book signing _that very night_ by an author whose name sounded vaguely familiar to him. He entered the information for the signing into his phone with a satisfied smile.

* * *

A few hours later, Adam found himself at the end of a line that snaked from La Librairie's entrance, around the nearest corner, and halfway down the block. No wonder Belle hadn't been able to duck out of work for the signing; he guessed it would be at least two hours before he saw the front of the line. He didn't think he had ever waited that long for an autograph, even from his favorite bands. But he settled in resolutely for the wait as he imagined Belle's reaction when he presented her with the coveted book. It would be worth it.

He pulled a set of earbuds from his pocket and placed them into his ears, passing the time by listening to a new album that he had recently downloaded to his phone. A few people joined the line behind him, which made him feel slightly better as the queue slowly crept forward. Somehow, just not being the last in line made him feel as if he had already made significant progress.

He glanced up a few minutes later when the woman standing in front of him shuffled forward several steps. To his surprise, a group of young women huddled a little bit ahead of him were looking in his direction and whispering to each other with grins on their faces. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn't see anything particular remarkable lurking behind him. As he faced forward once again, there was no mistaking it; the women weren't looking in his direction, they were looking at _him_. Did he have something on his face? He swiped at it self-consciously. One of the women immediately froze and scratched at the side of her nose. _Is she trying to tell me something? _he wondered. Maybe he'd gotten something smudged on his nose when he wiped at his face before. He wiped harder. The woman rubbed vigorously at the entire side of her face. Then she leaned toward the window of the adjacent building and checked her reflection as Adam watched, utterly baffled. Her group burst into giggles and looked back at Adam curiously.

_What was that all about_? he wondered. He glanced around and shrugged to himself. And then a realization hit him. He took a closer look at the line ahead of him and the line behind him. _One, two, three_ ...his eyes widened. He could count the number of other men in the line on one hand. For the most part, the crowd was made up of people about his age; some were slightly younger and some were slightly older - but they were almost overwhelmingly female. He pulled his phone from his pocket and searched on the name of the author. When he clicked on the search results, it all started to make sense; the author primarily wrote fairy tales. That explained why Belle had been so eager to attend the signing, and also why he was getting such strange looks from the girls ahead of him. _She's got me waiting for some chick-lit novel!_ he thought with a laugh. But he wasn't about to get out of line when he had nearly made it to the street corner. Besides that, he knew how much the book would mean to Belle. And maybe the fact that he'd spent so much time on this very unmanly task would earn him some extra points with her. He just hoped that no one he knew saw him waiting there.

When he finally made it to the front of the line, the author greeted him with a somewhat bemused smile. Reaching toward a stack of books piled next to her chair, she asked, "And what is your name?"

"Adam," Adam replied. "Oh, but this isn't for me," he blurted as she touched her pen to the inside cover of the book. She looked back up at him. "Would you please make it out to Belle?"

"Belle," she repeated. "Is she as pretty as her name?"

"Prettier," Adam answered without missing a beat.

She smiled warmly at him. "I must say, it's very nice of you to brave this line for your girlfriend."

"Oh, she's not my ...," he trailed off as the author began to inscribe the cover.

She handed the book back to him with a smile. "It was nice to meet you, Adam. I hope Belle enjoys the book."

"Thank you. I'm sure she will." Adam breathed a sigh of relief as he hurried to the cashier with his purchase. He exited the bookshop in triumph a few minutes later, suddenly eager to give Belle her gift. He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent her a message: _Are you still at work?_

A minute later, he received her reply: _Unfortunately_.

_Is it ok if I stop by?_ he wrote back.

_Sure, I could use a break_, she replied. _Come up to the second floor_.

* * *

After a brief stop for some takeout at a Thai restaurant that he knew to be good, he made his way to the second floor of the _Times_ office. The floor was quiet and mostly empty at this time of night, but there was Belle sitting dutifully at her desk and working away on her computer. She lifted her head when she heard him approach. She looked tired, but her face instantly brightened when she saw him.

"To what do I owe this visit?" she asked.

"I wanted to bring you something that I thought might cheer you up," Adam replied, holding up the bag from the bookstore. "Also, dinner. I hope you like Pad Thai."

"You're an angel; I love Pad Thai, and I am _starving_," Belle answered gratefully.

"You might like this more," Adam said as he handed her the smaller bag. Belle raised an eyebrow at him curiously and then reached her hand into the bag. She gasped when she pulled the book out.

"Adam! How did you ...?"

Adam shrugged. "You sounded really disappointed that you couldn't be there, and I didn't have anything important to do, so I went over and got one for you. Do you like it?"

"It's _wonderful_!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Adam was momentarily taken aback by the strength with which she embraced him; he wouldn't have expected it of a woman of her size. As he hugged her back, he decided that this more than made up for the long wait and the embarrassment he'd had to endure that evening. "Thank you so much!"

"I'm glad I could make you happy. The author says your name is pretty, by the way."

Belle eagerly flipped to the inside cover of the book. She raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle as she read the inscription. "What is it?" Adam asked in concern. "Don't tell me she spelled it wrong."

Belle shook her head and held the book up for him to read: _Dear Belle, You've found a keeper_, followed by the author's signature. Adam reddened. "I told her we weren't ..."

"She's right," Belle cut him off with a grin. "You are _definitely_ a keeper." She linked her arm through his. "Come with me to the kitchen? You are going to stay and eat with me, aren't you?"

As Adam allowed Belle to lead him through the halls, he was surprised to see a few more people still milling about the office. A short, dark-haired man with a rather large nose was just leaving the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee as they entered. "Hi, Belle," he greeted, looking curiously from her to Adam. His eyes lingered for a moment on Belle's hand, which was still wrapped around Adam's forearm.

"Hi, Mike," Belle replied as she and Adam took seats at an empty table. "That's Mike Lefou," she explained in a low voice. "He writes for the sports department."

Adam nodded indifferently; he didn't pay very close attention to the sports page, and the name didn't ring any bells. Besides, his mind was still reeling from the fact that Belle had described him as "definitely a keeper." It was all he could do to keep a dopey grin from spreading across his face as Belle spooned half of her Pad Thai onto his plate. Wait until he told Lumiere and Cogsworth about _that_.


	10. Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

Adam had just finished straightening up his living room when there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find Belle standing in the hallway with two large bags of groceries in her hands. "What's all this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Snacks," she announced with a grin. "I figured if we're going to sit through the entire _Lord of the Rings _trilogy today, we're going to get hungry at some point. And I don't want to miss anything."

"Good thinking," Adam nodded. "So what have we got?"

"Let's see," Belle replied, setting the bags on the kitchen counter and removing the items from the bags one-by-one. "We've got microwave popcorn, chocolate chip cookies, licorice, chocolate-covered peanuts, gummy bears, jelly beans, malt balls ... oh, and I brought root beer and ice cream so that we can make floats." She looked up at Adam with a triumphant smile.

"Is that _all_?" he asked.

Belle's face fell. "Did I forget something? I thought - wait ...," she said slowly, noticing the smile on Adam's face, "you're making fun of me, aren't you?"

Adam laughed. "Maybe just a little. I had no idea you were such a junk food junkie. What happened to the girl who made me eat raw pizza?"

"Well I wasn't sure what kinds of snacks you'd want, so I figured I'd get a bunch of different things," Belle said defensively.

"This all looks great," Adam assured her, reaching for the gummy bears.

She swatted his hand away. "If you eat them now, we'll have nothing left for the movies!" she admonished.

"But they're going to start in ten minutes anyway!" Adam pleaded. "Fine," he sighed, when Belle merely shook her head sternly. "Why don't you put the TV on while I get us some drinks? It's channel 30."

* * *

They spent the next three hours glued to the couch, fighting good-naturedly over a large bag of gummy bears, giggling at Merry's and Pippin's antics, cheering every orc that Legolas and Gimli slew, and reciting their favorite lines along with the characters. "It comes in pints?" Adam repeated in a bad Scottish brogue, staring at his root beer float in awe and eliciting a snort of laughter from Belle.

When the credits finally rolled, Belle sniffled quietly. "Are you all right?" Adam asked, handing her a tissue.

She laughed at the concern in his voice. "I'm fine. That last scene with Sam and Frodo always gets me, though."

"So in other words, this is just a preview of the waterworks that I'm going to be in for for the next six hours?" Adam joked.

Belle whacked him playfully with a throw pillow. "I'll try not to get too sentimental on you," she smirked.

"I appreciate it," Adam responded teasingly. "But I'm still taking this away from you before you can do any real damage," he continued, yanking the pillow from her hands. Belle huffed as it flew over his shoulder and landed on the floor behind them. However, she quickly swallowed any protests as the second movie began.

_The Two Towers_ had always been Belle's favorite film in the trilogy thanks to the introductions of Gollum and the Ents, not to mention Eowyn; however, she grew noticeably disgruntled when the action shifted to Rivendell. "This part of the movie always bothered me," she grumbled as Arwen joined the group of elves leaving for the Undying Lands. "She _never _left in the books."

Adam shrugged. "It doesn't really change anything. She ends up marrying Aragorn in the end anyway."

"It changes _everything_," Belle insisted. "The Arwen in the books would never have even considered abandoning Aragorn and going into the West. She loved him too much to do that. She was willing to give up her immortality and her family - basically _everything_ - just to be able to be with him for a few decades. She wouldn't have been swayed by a little well-placed parental guilt."

"The Arwen in the books was barely _in_ the books," Adam pointed out with an amused smile. "Most of that story was crammed in an Appendix."

"I know, but it was always one of my favorite parts," Belle sighed. "The way that the depth of her love for Aragorn was described was just so ... moving. She's so loyal to him that this_ huge_ sacrifice is, to her, almost no sacrifice at all."

"But then doesn't her change of heart make that sacrifice even _more_ powerful?" Adam argued. "It shows that she clearly understands what she's giving up in order to be with him. What she's losing means enough to her that she _almost_ chooses it over him, but in the end her love for him means more. I think that's more realistic. _And_ more romantic. Love isn't about blind devotion; it's about making choices. Like _choosing_ to be with someone, even when the personal cost might be so high that you'd nearly choose otherwise."

"I never thought about it that way," Belle conceded, looking slightly abashed. She studied him thoughtfully. "Have you ever been in love, Adam?"

He froze. Where had _that_ come from? They were talking about fictional characters - when did this conversation suddenly become about _him_? Belle seemed to sense his discomfort. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to," she said hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I'm being nosy. I just thought - you seemed like you knew what you were talking about."

"No," Adam replied, quickly regaining his composure. "It's ok." He hadn't meant for her to think that her question had offended him; he just wasn't sure how to answer it. He _knew_ the answer, but he wasn't quite ready to tell Belle that he thought he was falling in love with _her_, especially when there was no indication that she reciprocated those feelings. That would send her running for the door, probably never to return. On the other hand, if he said "no," then he'd be lying to her, and he didn't really like that idea either. "I've never felt that strongly about any girl I've dated," is what he finally settled on. It was the truth, just not the _complete_ truth.

"And you've dated that many girls, huh?" Belle said teasingly.

"What? _No_, not _that_ many. Not really, and not for a long time," Adam stammered, turning red.

Belle laughed and placed a hand on his. "Relax, I was only kidding."

"What about you?" Adam asked, eager to shift the focus of the conversation away from him and his love life. "Have you ever been in love?"

"No," Belle stated simply. "There was one time when I thought I was, but looking back on it now, I realize that it wasn't the case."

"What happened?"

"He cheated on me," she said candidly. "It hurt at the time, but he probably did me a favor. If I had given up immortality for him, I'd be kicking myself now," she joked.

Adam smiled at her. "I don't even have to know who he was to know that he's an idiot. You deserve better than that."

Belle smiled back. "Thanks. And you're right - I know it just means that there's something - some_one_ - better out there for me."

"There definitely is," Adam agreed, keeping to himself the thought that he badly wanted to be that someone better. He had felt a small stab of jealousy over the fact that Belle had even _considered_ that she might have been in love with her unnamed ex-boyfriend. If he ever had a chance with her, he swore he'd never mess it up by doing something so stupid.

* * *

The sky beyond the windows was beginning to darken when the second movie ended. Adam stood to stretch and relieve some of the soreness that had settled into his limbs during the last three hours of relative inactivity. "Do you want another drink?" he asked Belle as his eyes landed on her empty glass.

"That would be great, thanks," Belle responded with a yawn. "How do you feel about making some of that popcorn for the next movie too?"

"As you wish," Adam replied with a mock bow, before retreating to the kitchen. He returned to the couch with two full glasses and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn a few minutes later, just as _The Return of the King_ was starting. He set the glasses down on the coffee table and then settled back comfortably into his seat, pulling the bowl into his lap.

"Oh no, you don't," Belle warned.

Adam looked up at her in surprise. "Oh no, I don't _what_?"

"You're not hogging all of the popcorn," Belle insisted, scooting closer to him on the couch and helping herself to a handful from the bowl. She was so close that her shoulder bumped his, and Adam caught a brief whiff of her shampoo. It was flowery and sweet, and suddenly Adam could smell nothing else, not even the salty, heavily buttered aroma of the popcorn sitting right in front of him. Her fingers brushed his as she reached into the bowl again, sending goosebumps racing up his arm.

"Are you cold?" Belle asked in concern, placing a warm hand on his forearm. "You don't have to keep the air cranked down for me, you know."

"I'm fine," Adam said quickly. "I just, uh, forgot how cool this scene is," he explained lamely.

Belle nodded in agreement. "It's weird to see Gollum as a human. Well, as a hobbit."

They exchanged few other words as the movie progressed, their silence a testament to the intensity and somber tone of the story's final chapter. There was none of the joking or debate that had accompanied the first two movies, and Adam assumed that this was merely because Belle was as wrapped up in the action as he was. However, when she offered not so much as a sniffle as Sam carried Frodo up the side of Mount Doom, he looked over to make sure that she was all right. To his surprise, Belle had nodded off at some point during the last few minutes, her head dropping onto his shoulder as she dozed quietly. His heart swelled in his chest, but he willed himself to be still and not disturb her. He'd wake her when the movie was over, but until then, he was happy to let her use him as a pillow. He settled comfortably into his seat, enjoying the closing moments of the film more than any of the countless minutes that had preceded them.


	11. Carpe Diem Baby

Belle left the office and headed straight for the music shop, as had become her routine every Thursday night for the past several weeks. Adam's uncle greeted her warmly as the bell above the door jingled to signal her entrance. "Hello, Belle. Is it video game night again? Or do you two have other plans tonight?"

Belle smiled. "Hi, Mr. Prince. You were right the first time."

Adam's uncle shook his head. "I told you, you can call me Vinnie. All of Adam's friends do. And speaking of Adam, he should be around here somewhere. If you just give me a minute, I'll go find him for you." Belle wandered around the front of the store, admiring the guitars mounted on the wall as Vinnie disappeared through the doorway behind the counter.

He returned from the offices a few minutes later with Adam, who grinned at Belle. "Are you ready to kick some butt?"

Belle laughed. "I'm ready to hopefully not drag you down while _you_ kick some butt." Although her skills had improved over the last few weeks, she still had a long way to go before she considered herself a competent gamer.

"You could never drag me down," Adam responded, an uncharacteristic blush creeping over his face as the words left his mouth before he had time to think about them. Belle went equally red as she smiled back at him gratefully. Vinnie looked from Adam to Belle in amusement. Adam cleared his throat. "So, uh, Lumiere asked me if we could pick up the pizza on our way over. Do you mind stopping with me?"

"Oh no, that's fine," Belle agreed. "Should we get going then?" Adam nodded, and they bid Vinnie good night before setting off for Lumiere's and Cogsworth's apartment. Vinnie watched Adam hold the door open for Belle, his lips quirking up into a knowing smile as they exited the shop together.

* * *

Cogsworth had selected another vintage game this week, a fact for which Belle was immensely glad. The controls were so much simpler for the older games; the complicated sets of operations that accompanied most of the more modern games tended to confuse and frustrate her. She was able to play this week's game without having to focus too much of her concentration on it, which allowed her more opportunity to appreciate the company. She was really starting enjoy these weekly affairs. Cogsworth and Lumiere had welcomed her into their circle as easily as if they'd always known each other. Plus, they provided another excuse for her to see Adam during the week, though it was an excuse she hardly needed. As it was, they had started spending an increasing amount of their free time together. She couldn't quite explain it, but when she was with him, she felt less lonely. And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was no longer technically _alone_.

"Oh," Lumiere said suddenly, as a new game began to load. "Adam, I meant to tell you, I can't make it to the Robert Plant show on Saturday. The station needs me to cover for another DJ that night. I'm sorry for the late notice; I only just found out this morning."

"You're kidding," Adam groaned. "We bought those tickets months ago!"

"I know," Lumiere grumbled. "But there's no way to get out of it. Believe me, I tried. Is there anyone else who can go with you?"

Adam looked at Cogsworth, who held up his hands. "You know I would, but the mayor has an event that night. Otherwise, I would have bought a ticket when you guys did."

"Right," Adam sighed in disappointment. The list of people he could think of to replace Lumiere was fairly short. In fact, he was pretty certain he had just exhausted it. He supposed he _could_ still go by himself, but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun. On the other hand, it was better than missing the show completely.

"Robert Plant ...," Belle murmured, frowning as she tried to place the name. "Isn't he from Led Zeppelin?"

Lumiere nodded. "He was their lead singer, but he performs mostly on his own now. He's doing a solo show on Saturday night, and Adam and I were supposed to go. But ...," he shrugged helplessly, "duty calls."

"Well, _I_ like Led Zeppelin," Belle said. "Does he still play any of their songs?"

"Some ...," Lumiere responded, slowly grinning as if he had just been struck with a brilliant idea. "Are you busy on Saturday night, Belle?"

"Uh-uh," she replied, shaking her head as a smile crept across her face.

"Would _you_ like my Robert Plant ticket?" Lumiere offered.

Belle bounced in her seat enthusiastically. "Sure!" The biggest concert she had ever attended was, well, the one at which she had met Adam, Lumiere, and Cogsworth in the first place. And she had had no idea who they were when she had gone. The idea of going to see a musician she knew and of whom she was already a fan was kind of exciting. Plus, it would be fun to share that experience with Adam. She had found that his company improved even the most mundane events, like grocery shopping and waiting in line at the bank; going to a _rock concert_ with him would be even more thrilling.

"There you go, Adam!" Lumiere announced triumphantly. "You've got a date for the concert. And a much better-looking one than you had originally." He winked. Adam's mind was still trying to process what had just happened, but he did know one thing: he liked the idea of taking Belle to the concert. In fact, he couldn't believe _he_ hadn't thought to offer the ticket to her.

"How much do I owe you for the ticket?" Belle asked, turning to Lumiere.

Lumiere waved his hand magnanimously. He had a smile on his face that struck Belle as slightly calculating, but she couldn't imagine why or what he might be up to. "Don't worry - I've got it covered. It'll be enough for me to know that the two of you had a good time. In fact, Adam, you can still use my car if you need it. I can drop it off with you before you leave."

"Thanks," Adam nodded gratefully. "That would be great."

"Why, where is the show?" Belle asked curiously.

"The club's about an hour away from here. It was the closest show on his schedule," Adam explained.

"Ah," said Belle. A concert _and_ a road trip? Saturday was shaping up to be more of an adventure than she had expected; suddenly, she felt almost giddy. She began to mentally make a list of things that she could bring to help them pass the time in the car, and that was when her phone began to ring. She grabbed for her purse, and then fished around inside until her fingers closed around the phone. She pulled it out and glanced at the display. "Oh, excuse me, guys. It's my dad - do you mind pausing the game while I take this?"

"Not a problem," Lumiere answered. "You can use one of the bedrooms if you need some privacy."

"Thanks," Belle smiled as she made for the nearest room, shutting the door gently behind her.

Once he was certain she was out of earshot, Lumiere turned to Adam excitedly. "This is your chance!"

Adam gulped. He was looking forward to Saturday, but he'd had a feeling that Lumiere had had an ulterior motive for offering his ticket to Belle. "Hang on ...," he cautioned his friend.

"Hang on!" Lumiere exclaimed in a loud whisper. "We've been _hanging on_ all summer! How long are you planning to pine away for this girl before you say something to her?"

"Well I hadn't really thought about it ..."

Lumiere rolled his eyes. "Well _start_ thinking about it. This is the perfect opportunity to tell her how you feel."

"And if she doesn't feel the same way ...?" Adam countered.

"She does," Lumiere answered confidently. "Didn't you see how excited she is to be going to the show with you?"

"She's excited to see _Robert Plant_," Adam corrected.

"It's more than that," Lumiere insisted. Adam looked at him skeptically. "You don't mean to tell me that for all the time you spend looking at her - and you spend _a lot_ of time looking at her by the way - you've never noticed the way _she_ looks at _you_?"

"Why? How does she look at me?" Adam asked curiously.

"Like your mere presence makes her day. She lights up every time she sees you, even if you've only been gone for a minute."

Cogsworth looked up from a slice of pizza. "She does do that," he agreed.

"Really?" Adam asked doubtfully, trying not to allow himself to hope too much.

"Really," Lumiere responded dryly. "If the two of you were any more obvious, I'd be tempted to invite you to my next poker game. But seriously, there's definitely something there. The two of you just need to stop moping over each other like lovesick puppies and do something about it. And Cogsworth and I are going to help you do it."


	12. Dancing Days

Adam had just finished showering and getting dressed when his doorbell buzzed. He shook the water from his hair as he hurried to the door. "Tonight is the night!" Lumiere announced dramatically as he entered the room, with Cogsworth trailing closely behind. He flashed Adam an encouraging grin. "There will be music, a romantic drive, -" at this, Adam scoffed - "and when the time is right," he continued, ignoring Adam's skepticism, "you confess your love."

"When the _time is right_?" Adam repeated. "How am I supposed to know when _that_ is?"

"You'll know," Lumiere said vaguely. "Just have some confidence in yourself, and when the moment comes, seize it. This is no time to be timid. You must be bold, daring."

Adam didn't feel bold _or_ daring. Instead, he felt ... slightly sick to his stomach. "I don't think I can do this."

Lumiere patted his shoulder reassuringly. "You _can_ do it. We have faith in you. Nothing can go wrong. Except ...," he eyed Adam critically, "are you really going to wear that shirt?"

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Adam asked in disbelief. He was wearing his favorite Iron Maiden t shirt. It featured a faded image of the band's skeletal mascot leading The Charge of the Light Brigade. It had been softened over the years by repeated washings and was one of the most comfortable pieces of clothing he owned. Besides, it was vintage! That was cool, wasn't it?

"Eddie doesn't exactly scream romance," Lumiere observed with a smirk. "Are you planning to confess your feelings to Belle or give the poor girl nightmares?"

"He has a point," Cogsworth agreed, striding authoritatively to Adam's closet. "You want to make a good impression tonight." He perused Adam's wardrobe thoughtfully. "Do you own anything besides concert t shirts?" he asked in frustration. Finally, he pulled a red dress shirt from the rack. "Here, try this."

Adam reluctantly removed his t shirt and shrugged into the shirt that Cogsworth had selected. Once he had finished buttoning it up, he turned to his friend. "You forgot to tuck it in," Cogsworth reminded him. Adam raised an eyebrow skeptically, but Cogsworth merely gave him a commanding look. Sighing in defeat, Adam tucked in his shirt, and then glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser.

"Ah, you look so ... so ...," Lumiere trailed off, looking at Adam's reflection uncertainly.

"Stupid," Adam finished for him.

"Not quite the word I was looking for," Lumiere assured him. "But it is a little stuffy looking for a concert. Perhaps we should go with something slightly less formal?"

Adam gratefully shed his dress shirt, much to Cogsworth's dismay. This time, Lumiere scanned his closet and selected a plain, dark blue button-up shirt with short sleeves. Adam donned the shirt and tugged at the hem. "I'm _not_ tucking this in," he warned.

"No, that's fine," Lumiere said agreeably. "I think that works. It's neat looking, but appropriate. I think Belle will be pleased." Adam sighed in relief and ushered his friends out of his room. When they weren't looking, he grabbed the Iron Maiden shirt from his bed and stuffed it into his duffel bag defiantly. He then followed them downstairs to the car.

"Good luck," Lumiere wished him as he leaned through the passenger window. "Everything will be fine. Just remember what I said: wait for the right moment. And no rush bringing the car home; keep it as long as you need." He winked at Adam and waved as the car pulled away from the curb.

Belle was waiting in front of her building when Adam arrived. She waved enthusiastically when she saw him approach. "You look nice," she complimented as she settled into the passenger seat. Any thoughts Adam had of changing into the t shirt in his duffel bag suddenly evaporated, and he uttered a silent "thank you" to Lumiere and Cogsworth as he steered the car into traffic.

* * *

The club was already crowded when they arrived, and Belle glanced around excitedly. A large, open floor surrounded the stage. A narrow mezzanine extended from the wall above them, and she could see several faces peering down over the railings. The space was brightly lit, and the loud hum of the crowd made it hard to hear the music that was being piped over the speakers. She grabbed Adam's hand and gave it a tug; he turned to her with a questioning look. "Do we have time to look around?" she asked, gesturing to the balcony. Adam nodded and allowed her to lead him toward the stairs, enjoying the way her small hand fit so comfortably into his.

They took some time exploring the upper level of the club, but ultimately Belle decided that she'd rather be down on the floor for the show. Privately, Adam agreed with her, but he would have been willing to do just about anything she asked tonight. He purchased some drinks, and they made their way back to the floor with only minutes to spare. "There he is!" Belle exclaimed as the band took the stage to a round of cheers. "He looks different!" she shouted to Adam as the lights around them dimmed.

"Well, that album I gave you is more than forty years old," Adam responded with a smile.

Belle wasn't as familiar with Robert Plant's solo work as she was with Led Zeppelin, but she was delighted to discover that she enjoyed the unfamiliar songs just as much as the ones she'd listened to over and over. However, the band made her night when she recognized the opening notes of "Thank You." She had been hoping that they would play this song; it had been her immediate favorite on the CD that Adam had given her shortly after they met. She tugged again on Adam's hand, and he leaned down to better hear her over the music. "Dance with me?" she asked eagerly.

"What, here?" Adam asked, glancing around the crowded floor.

"No, on top of the bar. Yes, here."

Adam hesitated. "I don't really dance."

"I don't really play video games, but I play one with you every week," Belle countered. "Please? Just for this one song? Other people are dancing, too."

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to dance with Belle; that wasn't the issue at all. It was that he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her, especially when what he intended to tell her tonight might end up making an even bigger fool of him. On the other hand, maybe she had just given him the perfect opening for the conversation that he was having trouble starting. Ultimately, the pleading look on her face broke down what little resistance Adam was feeling, and he finally relented. "All right. One song." He stumbled backward slightly as Belle threw her arms around him happily and mumbled an apology to the man standing behind him. He then held out his hands awkwardly once Belle released him, not entirely certain what she wanted him to do. He gulped as Belle took his hands in hers and gently placed them on her waist. Then she stepped in closely, draping her own arms around his shoulders and looking up at him expectantly. He took a hesitant step to the side, and she followed. After a few more steps, the movement started to feel a little more natural, and he allowed the music to guide him the rest of the way. He had finally started to feel as if he had settled into a comfortable rhythm when Belle placed her head on his chest, and the action caught him so off guard that he nearly stumbled again. He recovered before Belle could react, and smiled slightly to himself as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply.

Belle allowed a content sigh to escape her lips, unheard over the music and the crowd noise reverberating off of the walls. She had been afraid that Adam was going to refuse to dance with her, but she was glad that he'd decided to be a good sport. It _had_ been a little awkward at first, but it wasn't long before it felt natural and ... really _nice_ to be this close to him. It made her wonder why they had never done this before. She smiled to herself as she counted the beats of his heart beneath her cheek, and she inhaled the clean scent of his shirt. She had never noticed how good Adam smelled until now; not of overpowering cologne, but of soap, clean laundry, and warmth. She was so lost in these observations that it took her a moment to notice when the song had ended and their movements had stilled. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at Adam.

She was surprised to see that he was looking right back at her, and she nearly melted under the intensity of his gaze. Adam was looking at her with a mix of affection, admiration, and longing. She recognized the emotions because they were very similar to the ones with which she was currently wrestling. Adam lifted a hand from her waist and brought it up to her hair, allowing the strands to sift slowly through his fingers. He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact, and her eyelids fluttered closed instinctively as he leaned in. Belle's heart began to hammer madly in anticipation of the kiss ... that never came. Instead, she was seized by a sudden chilly sensation, as if she had been abruptly doused in a bucket of cold water. _That_ wasn't quite what she had been expecting.

Belle opened her eyes to find a puddle of beer dripping down the front of her shirt. Adam was glaring at a red-faced man who was trying to stutter an apology. "I'm _so_ sorry, miss! Someone bumped into me from behind, and it all just spilled." He held up his empty cup helplessly as if to illustrate the truth of his words.

"It's ok," Belle assured the man, still trying to recover her bearings. She declined the man's offer to buy her a drink and quickly excused herself to the ladies' room to clean up.

What _just happened back there?_ Belle asked herself as she furiously blotted the front of her shirt with a paper towel. She was still in shock, and not from the unexpected beer bath. Adam had been about to kiss her. And she had been about to kiss him back. She had _wanted_ to kiss him back. If that man hadn't spilled his drink on her, she might have been kissing him _right_ _now_. Did that mean something, or had they simply gotten caught up in the moment? She imagined what it might have been like to feel Adam's warm lips on hers, to tangle her fingers in his hair as his hands slid up and down her back. She shivered slightly, and glanced around in embarrassment. Fortunately, the other women standing in front of the mirror were too busy fixing their hair and makeup to notice her daydreaming. Deciding that her shirt was as dry as it was going to get, she backed away from the counter and made her way back to the crowded floor.

Adam wanted to kick himself, but he wanted to kick the idiot who had spilled his beer on Belle even more. He couldn't believe how close he had been; how close_ they _had been, since Belle had seemed to want to kiss him as much as he had wanted to kiss her. He wondered if that was still the case, or if she had had a change of heart now that she'd had time to think about it while she cleaned up. Should he try again, or had he already made things irrevocably awkward? How was he going to be able to look her in the eyes when she returned? How were they going to share the long ride home together? Would they talk about it, or would they just pretend that nothing had happened? Unfortunately, he was about to get the answers to _all_ of these questions as he spotted her making her way back to him.

"Are you ok?" he asked with concern when she reached his side.

Belle waved a hand. "I'm fine, just a little damp. Unfortunately, I'll probably smell like a frat party for the rest of the night." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a rueful smile.

Adam smiled back. "I have an extra shirt in the car if you want to borrow it. It'll be big on you, but at least it's dry. And clean."

"Dry is good," Belle replied gratefully.

"Ok," Adam nodded. "Do you want to just get out of here?"

"The show's not over yet though," Belle protested. "I'd feel bad making you miss anything."

"It's fine," Adam insisted. "I've seen him at least a dozen times. He'll probably only go on for another few minutes anyway. I'm not going to make you stand around in a wet shirt just so that I can hear 'Going to California' for the umpteenth time." He grabbed her elbow gently and led her toward the exit.

Adam retrieved his Iron Maiden t shirt from the duffel bag in the back seat and handed it to Belle. Her lips twisted into an amused smile at the image on the shirt, but she accepted it with relief. She placed the t shirt over her own, and then awkwardly wriggled out of the wet material still clinging to her skin. She finally pulled the damp shirt through the neck of the borrowed one, and Adam took it from her and tossed it into the bag. His t shirt hung almost to her knees, but the sight of her wearing his clothes caused his heart to start beating rapidly. He had to fight to keep his eyes on the road as they made the long drive home. Fortunately, the trip wasn't nearly as awkward as Adam had feared it would be; apparently, they were just going to pretend that nothing had happened at the concert. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but for the moment he was just grateful that Belle didn't seem to be in a rush to get away from him.

They pulled up in front of Belle's apartment almost an hour after leaving the show. "Thanks for the concert, Adam. I had a really good time, spilled beer and all."

"So did I," Adam agreed. "It was an adventure."

Belle smiled at his choice of words. "I'll stop by with your shirt later this week."

"No rush," Adam replied. "It looks better on you anyway."

Belle impulsively leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek, allowing her lips to linger for a moment against his skin. "Good night," she said as she reached for the door handle. "I'll call you."

"Good night, Belle," Adam murmured, raising a hand to his cheek. It wasn't quite the kiss that he had been hoping for, but it had somehow still managed to leave him breathless.

It wasn't quite the kiss that Belle had been hoping for either, she admitted to herself as she settled into bed that night, still wrapped in Adam's shirt so that she could breath in his scent as she fell asleep. She berated herself for not being braver in that moment, for expecting Adam to take the initiative. He was probably trying to give her space after the mishap at the concert, to let her make sense of her feelings rather than push the issue. But she understood with a growing certainty that she had begun to fall for him, and it seemed like, maybe, he had begun to fall for her, too. She just wasn't sure what to do about it.


	13. Calm Before the Storm

"May I have your attention?" Gaston announced, striding into the middle of the second-floor bullpen. Belle and Chip had been chatting near the water cooler and looked up curiously at the interruption. "I'd like to thank you all for coming to this meeting."

_What meeting_? Chip mouthed to Belle. Belle shrugged, as surprised by Gaston's announcement as he was.

"As you may know, I've arranged for the _Times_ to play _The Strasbourg Tribune_ in a flag football game for charity, and I need volunteers to play on the team. The game will be played on the first Saturday in October, and we will have at least two practices before the game. I expect any volunteers to be available for both practices _and_ the game. Don't expect to play otherwise. Friends and family are welcome to join our team, but the same conditions apply."

Their coworkers began chattering excitedly. "Can women play?" asked one of Belle's coworkers from the arts department.

"Yes," Gaston replied. "Both teams are actually required to include women," - a brief look of disdain passed over his face at this revelation - "so I will need some ladies to sign up."

"You said this was for charity," remarked a man near the stairs. "How will the money be raised?"

"Several local businesses will be sponsoring each team," Gaston answered.

"And what charities are you playing for?" Belle asked skeptically.

"I'm so glad you asked, Belle," Gaston replied, flashing her a smile. "Part of the money raised will be used to buy equipment for youth sports programs in both towns, and the rest will be used to set up high school internship programs at both papers. I'll be posting a sign up sheet in the kitchen. Leave your name and email address, and I'll email you with the details for the practices."

A group of men immediately surrounded Gaston and began asking more questions. Chip turned to Belle. "What do you think?" he asked.

"What do I think about _what_?" Belle replied, frowning.

"Do you want to do it?" Chip asked eagerly. He had recently been offered a full-time job by the paper - conditional upon him graduating, of course - and seemed to have been seized with a bout of team spirit as a result.

Belle snorted in disbelief. "What _play football_? Encourage Gaston's ego trip? Get manhandled by a bunch of guys who think they're still in high school? No thanks."

"Come _on_, Belle," Chip pleaded. "It's just flag football, so there's no chance of getting hurt."

"I don't know, Chip," she said doubtfully. "I'm not much of an athlete; there's not much I can bring to the team."

"Who cares? It'll be fun anyway. And you heard Gaston - we need women on the team. Besides, it's for charity," he added. "Think of the _children_." He batted his eyelashes innocently, and he looked so earnest that Belle couldn't help but laugh. Despite his antics, she had to admit that he had a point. She didn't really care about the sports programs, but she would have loved to have had the chance to intern at a real newspaper when she was in high school. It might be worth participating just to ensure that some other kid had that opportunity.

"Ok, ok," she groaned. "Just stop making that face at me. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this."

* * *

"Have you guys ever played football?" Belle asked later that evening, squished on the couch between Adam and Cogsworth. Lumiere sat to their sides in an armchair, balancing a plate in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

"I played _Madden_ once," he offered. "But it was at a party and I was trying to impress a girl, so I wasn't really paying very close attention to the game. It was kind of confusing anyway."

Cogsworth snickered. "I remember that party. It turned out he had gone out with the girl once before that and totally forgotten about it. She played along for a little while before dumping her drink on him. She made quite a scene."

Belle smiled; the story didn't really surprise her. But it was sort of beside the point. "That's not exactly what I meant. Have you ever played _real _football? Or flag football anyway. Didn't you guys ever play peewee football, or maybe play in high school?"

Lumiere looked at her in amusement. "Belle," he said patiently. "Have I ever said or done anything to give you the impression that I possess an ounce of athletic ability?"

Cogsworth nodded in agreement. "What he said."

She looked helplessly at Adam. Although they'd never actually discussed it, she'd always assumed that he'd played sports as a kid. He had a strong, athletic build that she was certain didn't come just from lugging around his musical equipment. "You must have played at some point, right?"

Adam shook his head. "I grew up overseas, remember? 'Football' meant something totally different. But I _did_ play in high school gym class," he added when Belle's face fell in disappointment. "I was ok at that, I guess. Why the sudden obsession with football, anyway? I didn't think you were that big of a sports fan."

"I'm not. I'm terrible at sports actually," Belle admitted. "But Chip talked me into signing up for this flag football game that the paper is participating in for charity. We're allowed to recruit our friends for the team ... and I just thought ...," she trailed off.

"You thought we might want to play?" Lumiere finished with a sympathetic smile. Belle nodded. "I'm sorry Belle, but I'm going to have to take a pass. I wouldn't be any help anyway. But I'll definitely come cheer _you_ on."

"Me too," Cogsworth agreed. "We'll make signs and everything."

"Ok," Belle agreed, "that would be nice." She smiled gratefully at her friends, but Lumiere didn't miss the hint of disappointment in her voice. He met Adam's eyes and gave him a pointed look. Adam inclined his head slightly and lifted his shoulders in confusion. Lumiere rolled his eyes emphatically in Belle's direction, and Adam followed his gaze, a look of understanding finally dawning on his face.

"I'll do it," he said quickly, almost before he realized what he was saying.

Belle's head whipped around to face him. "You will?" she asked hopefully. When Adam nodded, she threw her arms around him excitedly, nearly crushing his ribs in the process. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug, earning an impish wink from Lumiere.

"Sure," he answered, once Belle had released him from the embrace. "It sounds like fun, and it's for a good cause. I haven't thrown a football since high school though. Do you maybe want to hit the park and get a little practice in this weekend? I mean, before the real practice?" Lumiere's eyebrows shot up, and he nodded approvingly to Adam as if impressed by his friend's clever suggestion. Little did he know that Adam's proposal had been genuine, and not simply a ploy to spend more time with Belle. Well, not _entirely_ a ploy.

"That's a good idea," Belle nodded in agreement. "I don't want to seem too clueless in front of my coworkers. Oh, I'm so glad you're going to do this Adam! You'll fit in great on our team!"

* * *

Belle couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face as she finally spied Adam approaching on Sunday morning. They had agreed to meet early at the park to toss a football around and get some practice before their team met officially later that week. He strode across the grass toward her, clad in a pair of long gym shorts and a t shirt that seemed so incongruous with the way she was used to seeing him dress. His long hair was pulled back from his face in a loose ponytail, also a style she'd never seen him wear. The look was disconcerting to her, but not unappealing. In fact, she noted with appreciation that the net effect showed off his muscular form quite nicely, and she felt heat creep into her cheeks as if she were afraid that he'd somehow be able to read her thoughts.

Adam seemed equally bemused by her own appearance. "Well, you _look_ like you're ready to play football," he commented, tilting his head and offering a smile as his gaze traveled quickly over her shorts and t shirt, finally landing on the pristine running shoes that looked as if they had been removed from the box for the first time that morning.

"Don't be fooled by appearances," Belle joked. "I need all the help I can get."

"Well that's what I'm here for. That, plus I could use the practice myself," Adam grinned as he pulled a brand new football from the plastic shopping bag in his hands. "How do you feel about starting with a game of catch?"

"All right," Belle nodded agreeably as Adam put a few yards of distance between them before turning to face her. He tossed the ball, and it spun quickly as it flew toward Belle in a gentle arc. She took a step forward, reaching out stiffly with her arms as the ball landed in her hands. She grinned and held it up proudly.

"Nice catch!" Adam complimented. "Now next time, try not to lock your arms. As soon as you've got your hands on the ball, pull it into your body. That way, no one can knock it out of your hands. Plus it's much easier to run with it that way."

"Run?" asked Belle, looking slightly alarmed.

"Well yeah, that's what you do once you catch the ball," Adam explained with a patient smile. "At least, until someone from the other team catches up to you. Don't worry," he laughed as Belle's frown deepened, "it's only flag football. Nobody's going to tackle you. Now here, why don't you toss it back to me and we can try again?"

He threw a few more easy passes to Belle until she grew comfortable with the fundamentals of catching the ball. This wasn't so bad, she mused. Of course, she wasn't trying to run while carrying the ball, but at least she could _catch_ it. "Here, why don't I throw a few to you so you can practice?" she suggested.

"All right," Adam agreed, tossing the ball to her in an underhand motion.

Belle gripped the ball, drew her arm back as she had watched Adam do, and threw to him. The ball wobbled awkwardly in the air, landing on the ground several feet short of her intended target. She went red. "Sorry," she mumbled. "That was terrible."

"No big deal," Adam assured her as he bent to retrieve the ball. "Here, do you want me to show you how to throw? It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it, but you have to know a few tricks to do it properly." Belle nodded gratefully.

"Ok, so you're going to throw with your right hand, right?" he confirmed as he approached her. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, attempting to position her body for the throw, and the gesture for some reason brought back a sudden, vivid memory of dancing with him at the Robert Plant concert. Belle tensed at the contact and drew in a deep breath as she remembered what had almost come _after _they had danced.

_Get a grip, Belle! _ she scolded herself. _It's only Adam!_ But ... that was exactly the problem. He had ceased to be "only" Adam the moment she had realized how hard she had fallen for him. Her breathing grew uneven as she struggled not to betray the effect his nearness was currently having on her, which ironically only seemed to make her nervousness _more_ apparent. Did he notice? He'd been keeping his distance since the concert. Not that he had been unfriendly or tried to avoid her, but he certainly hadn't made any further attempts to kiss her or been unusually affectionate. He hadn't even _mentioned_ the incident. It was almost as if it had never happened, and Belle assumed that he had simply gotten carried away and didn't want to hurt her feelings by bringing it up.

Fortunately for her, Adam misinterpreted the reason for her jitters. "Don't feel badly," he said. "Nobody really gets this right away; it takes some practice. Just put your left foot forward ... good, just like that." He placed the ball in her right hand. "Now when you grip the ball, a few of your fingers should line up with the laces; that's what they're there for." He took her hand in his larger one, and she fought to keep her hand from shaking as he gently arranged her fingers so that the last two crossed the laces. Belle immediately felt the loss of his warmth when he stepped back and gave a satisfied nod.

"Now when you throw," he continued, "keep your elbow high, and bring your arm forward in an arc, like this." He mimed the motions, watching Belle the whole time to make sure she was following. "Ready to give it a try?"

"Ok," Belle agreed uncertainly. She took a deep breath as Adam jogged away, then turned to face her and flash her a thumbs up. She bit her lip as she drew her arm up and back, and then swung it forward like Adam had shown her. The ball lurched a bit as it sailed through the air, but it was a much better looking pass than her first one had been; it even had a bit of a spin like Adam's throws. Unfortunately, it still failed to reach Adam, and she groaned in frustration.

"That was good!" Adam insisted encouragingly. "Don't worry about your range; that'll get better as you get more comfortable throwing. But the throw was a lot better."

"Really?" Belle asked hopefully.

"Really," Adam repeated, tossing the ball back to her. "Go ahead, try a few more."

True to Adam's word, Belle improved as she got used to the mechanics of throwing the ball. Her passes started to reach Adam regularly, and eventually they were able to build up to an easy game of catch. Belle was surprised to find that she really enjoyed herself. Her confidence grew as they laughed and threw the football back and forth to each other; she almost felt like a kid again. She had never imagined that she could have so much fun just tossing a ball around, but then she mused that she had found herself enjoying a lot of things that she hadn't expected to like since meeting Adam. She was almost disappointed when he suggested taking a break for lunch.

He draped an arm around her shoulders and complimented her improving skills as they headed for the hot dog cart on the opposite side of the lawn. It was an innocent, friendly gesture, but Belle beamed up at him as if he had just given her a wonderful gift. As they settled onto a nearby bench with their lunch, she began to think that she could become a football fan after all.


	14. Axe to Grind

Belle and Adam arrived together for their first football practice, making them the object of curious glances as they joined their teammates milling about on the field. Chip bounded up to them excitedly, reintroducing himself to Adam and shooting Belle knowing looks that she tried to ignore. She also noticed that Mike Lefou and Gaston, who were standing a few feet away from the rest of the group and were engaged in a serious-looking discussion, kept looking in their direction. Whatever they were talking about, Gaston didn't seem to be happy about it.

However, his mood appeared to have improved a few minutes later when he called for the attention of the team. "It looks like everyone is here, so let's get started. We only have two practices until the game, which means I don't have a lot of time to whip you all into a bunch of winners. The first thing we need to do is determine what positions each person will be playing."

"As team captain - and the person with the most football experience - I will be making that decision," he announced. "And the best way for me to judge everyone's skills is to start with a friendly scrimmage. To make things easy, the sports and local news departments and their friends will be on one team, and everybody else will be on the other." The members of the sports department grinned at each other, clearly pleased to have been placed on the same team as Gaston, even for a game that counted for nothing.

Gaston distributed the set of red flags to his team and the set of blue flags to the rest of the group. "The first team to score three touchdowns wins. Since this is only a practice, red team will receive the ball first." He handed the football to Chip. "Pick someone on your team to kick off," he ordered.

It was decided by the team that Chip would take the kickoff, since he played in a recreational soccer league. As he launched the ball into the air, Mike Lefou ran forward excitedly to catch it. The ball bounced off of his head with a _thunk_, and he fell hard on his behind. A few members of his own team laughed as he hurriedly threw himself on top of the ball, but Gaston did not appear to be amused in the least. He exchanged some quick words with Mike as his team lined up for their first play, and though Belle couldn't hear them from where she was standing, it was clear that Gaston was angry. Poor Mike's face had gone as red as the flags around his waist, and though she'd never been close with him, Belle felt a rush of sympathy for the man.

A tall man from the sports desk - his name might have been Tom? - lined up at quarterback and yelled, "Hike!" As several of his teammates surged forward, he handed the ball off to another man. Chip chased the runner down, and was almost within reach of his flags, when Gaston delivered a forceful block that sent him sprawling to the ground. The runner ran the ball into the end zone to delighted whoops and cheers from his team as Adam extended a hand to help Chip up.

"Are you ok?" he asked as Chip brushed the grass clippings from the seat of his shorts.

"I'm fine," Chip grumbled. "I thought this was a 'friendly' scrimmage though."

"Guess somebody forgot to tell our 'captain,'" Adam agreed.

The blue team lined up to receive the ball, and a woman from the world news department was able to catch the ball and return it for a respectable gain before one of the members of the red team caught up to her. Adam was then chosen to play quarterback, seemingly for no reason other than he was the tallest member of the team. He played the position capably, though, completing passes to several of his teammates. However, they were unable to advance the ball appreciably due to the red team's aggressive defensive tactics, and eventually surrendered the ball on downs. By this point, several members of the blue team were complaining quietly and rubbing at their bruised limbs.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, then, that the red team was equally cutthroat on offense. They barreled down the field, throwing their weight into blocks that were far more combative than a simple practice game warranted. Gaston bestowed an appreciative pat upon every player who managed to manhandle a member of the defense, and his team celebrated boisterously when they jumped out to a two-touchdown lead.

Gaston's teammates made sure to loudly remind the blue team of this point disparity as they huddled up immediately following their next kick return. Adam narrowed his eyes as he gripped the ball, more weary of the physical beating that was being inflicted upon his teammates than of the verbal instigation. But it was no use trying to out-muscle the red team - someone was certain to get seriously hurt. Which meant they had to out-smart them. "Chip," he said in a low voice, "how is your arm?"

Chip shrugged. "Not as good as yours, but pretty good."

"Good." Adam handed him the ball. "You're going to play quarterback this time. I want you to fake a hand off to me. I'll draw the defenders down the left side of the field. That should give some of our guys a few seconds to get clear of those goons; you just pass to the first open target you see."

"Adam, you're going to get crushed," Belle said uncertainly.

"It's fine," he assured her. "Everyone else on this team has been roughed up by those guys. I can handle it, and it'll give some of our guys a break, even if it's only for a down or two." He glanced around the huddle to make sure that everyone was in agreement with the plan, and then they lined up for the play.

Chip executed the fake hand off perfectly, running in the opposite direction of Adam and the defenders who had been fooled into chasing him. He scanned the field quickly, drew his arm back, and completed a long pass to one of his colleagues from the music desk. The man managed to carry the ball just short of the end zone before being forced out of bounds by a member of the stunned red team. Chip was quickly surrounded by his excited teammates. "That was a nice play," one of the members of the red team acknowledged from across the line of scrimmage, drawing a withering glare from his captain.

"I never said you could switch positions," Gaston said angrily.

"You never said we couldn't," Adam pointed out. "It's just a practice."

"Well I'm saying it now," Gaston growled. He poked Adam in the chest. "_You_ are the quarterback. Got it?"

Adam held up his hands. "Whatever you say, _captain_."

On the next play, Adam - who had returned to his position at quarterback - attempted a pass to Belle in the end zone. As she reached for the ball, a member of the red team jumped in front of her and swatted the ball to the ground, knocking her backward in the process. Adam felt a rush of anger as Belle picked herself off the ground. "Are you all right?" he asked as she returned to the line, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her over anxiously.

"I'm fine," she replied, touched by his concern. "_Really_, I'm more annoyed than hurt."

"You can whisper sweet nothings to each other later," Gaston snapped at them. "Let's keep this game moving."

Adam glared at him. It was Gaston's fault that Belle had almost been hurt, and that half of the members of their team were nursing unnecessary injuries. He ruled his team with a mob mentality, inciting them to storm the field like a bunch of bullies. And though Adam refused to sink to his level, he now admitted to himself that he desperately wanted to beat the man, even if this _was_ only a practice game. He eyed the distance to the goal line - it wasn't far. A yard or two, at most. He glanced up and down the line to make sure that his team was ready, then called "Hike!" The instant the word left his mouth, Adam abruptly dove toward Gaston's left side, catching the larger man off guard. He landed hard on his shoulder, still clutching the ball. But the cheers from his teammates told him all that he needed to know: he had crossed the goal line. The play had worked, and the red team's lead had suddenly been cut in half.

The blue team jogged to the opposite end of the field to kick the ball, suddenly energized now that they had put some points on the board. By contrast, the red team was much more grim as its members tried to absorb the fact that they were not as invincible as they'd thought. Mike Lefou managed a halfhearted taunt as Chip prepared to kick, but none of his teammates joined in.

A bit more of the wind was taken from their sails when Chip intercepted a pass on the second play of the possession. He hit the ground heavily as he collided with the pass's intended recipient, but managed to hang on to the ball, giving his team possession less than ten yards from the end zone. He exchanged triumphant grins with Adam as he handed the ball to his quarterback. "Let's even this up," he suggested.

"Gladly," Adam replied as his team lined up eagerly for the next play. Even Belle was starting to get excited. She had never been a big sports fan, but there was something exhilarating about the feeling of solidarity that came with beating the odds as a team.

"Hike!" Adam called, and Belle immediately burst forward with her teammates. As she ran past Mike Lefou, she turned to look back at Adam. His eyes met hers, and he drew his arm back. _Oh no, he's going to throw the ball to _me! Belle realized with dread. She shook her head at him desperately, but it was too late; the ball was already sailing toward her in a neat spiral. She gritted her teeth and stretched her hands forward, nearly jumping in surprise when they closed around the ball. Remembering what Adam had taught her, she pulled it into her body and grinned, looking up at him proudly. She caught it! So why was he shouting at her?

The elation she had felt at making the catch wore off instantly when she realized that _all _of her teammates were shouting at her. "_Run_!" Chip screamed as he waved frantically at her. And then she noticed several members of the red team running toward her with determination. With a squeak of surprise, she whirled and ran in the opposite direction. Her teammates' shouts turned to cheers as she crossed into the end zone.

Adam crushed her in a bear hug when he finally caught up to her, lifting her easily off the ground. "I thought you weren't good at sports," he teased as he placed her back on the ground and affectionately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm not!" Belle gasped. "It must be beginners' luck."

"Well, whatever it was, you were amazing." His eyes shone with pride, his hand lingered in her hair, and for one brief, intoxicating moment Belle almost thought that he might kiss her right there on the field. But then the rest of their teammates surrounded them, and they were caught up in the ensuing celebration. Neither she nor Adam noticed the scowls they had drawn from Gaston.

"So I have an idea," Chip suggested excitedly once the whole team had reached the end zone. "What do you think about surprising them with an onside kick?"

"I don't know," Adam said doubtfully. "Isn't that kind of risky? If it goes wrong, we've pretty much given them the game. And we only just got back in it."

"That's exactly why we should try it now," Chip argued. "We've got them off balance - they'll never see it coming. We've got the momentum; why give them the chance to get it back when we can end the game _now_?" There was a murmur of agreement among his teammates.

Adam looked around and nodded. "All right, it's worth a shot. You think you can manage the kick?"

Chip grinned. "Leave it to me. I'll get us the ball; you guys just make sure I don't get squashed." With that, they lined up as if preparing for a normal kickoff. As the red team waited tensely for the kick, Chip gave the signal, and his team ran forward as one. Chip approached the tee, drawing his leg back and dragging his foot along the top of the ball at the last moment. The ball leaped forward, bouncing alongside Chip as he continued to run down the field. As the red team shouted and scrambled to reach the ball, Chip simply dove on top of it and clutched it to his chest. His teammates surrounded him protectively as the red team stopped short, dumfounded by the latest turn of events. Gaston was positively seething, and grumbled something about a "cheap play" before ordering his team back to the huddle.

As they returned to the line of scrimmage, Gaston lined up directly across from Adam and stared hard at him. _What is this guy's problem_? Adam wondered. It was only a practice game, and they were all on the same team anyway. He should have been glad that his teammates were playing so well. _He must be one of those super-competitive jocks who can't stand to lose_, Adam decided. Though that still didn't explain why he seemed to have taken such a personal dislike to Adam.

"Are you in love with her?" Gaston asked, in a mocking voice so low that only Adam could hear him.

"Excuse me?" Adam blinked in surprise.

"You heard me," Gaston answered menacingly. "Stay away from Belle."

Adam narrowed his eyes at the larger man. So that's what this was about. Well, he wasn't going to allow himself - or Belle - to be intimidated by this arrogant brute. "Hike!" he called authoritatively, and his teammates surged forward. At the same time, a blur entered his line of sight as Gaston launched himself toward his midsection, instantly knocking the wind out of him as he made contact. The impact caused him to lose his footing as he was driven backward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

"Adam!" Belle screamed, racing back to the line of scrimmage with her teammates. Gaston was picking himself up from the ground as if nothing had happened, but Adam did not appear to be moving.

"What _was_ that?" Chip yelled angrily at Gaston. "We're not playing tackle, and you _definitely_ did not count to five!"

"He's not moving," another of their coworkers announced nervously. "I think he's unconscious."

"What?" Belle cried, lunging to Adam's side. Her coworker put out a hand to stop her.

"Careful," he said sympathetically. "If he's got a concussion, it's best not to move him." He pulled out his phone and dialed for an ambulance. As the seriousness of the situation began to sink in, even Gaston's teammates began to turn on him.

"Dude, he's still on _our_ team," one grumbled.

"Yeah, who's going to play quarterback next week if he's really hurt?" asked another. Belle could only stand there with tears streaming down her face as the murmur of dissent grew louder.


	15. A Light in the Black

As consciousness began to creep up on him, Adam mused that it felt a lot like fighting his way to the surface from the bottom of a very deep, very dark lake. At first, there was nothing but blackness and silence. But then light and sound gradually started to assert themselves at the edges of his perception, fuzzy at first, but increasing steadily in clarity.

The first thing he really became aware of was a faint glow behind his eyelids; somewhere nearby, a light was on. Probably a bright one, too. Wherever he was, it was also a little chilly. Not _cold_, exactly, but cool in a refreshing kind of way. Then there was a low, rhythmic, mechanical hum coming from somewhere to his side. It would have almost been soothing if not for the trilling, inconsistent beep that sounded from somewhere above him. It almost sounded as if someone were playing a video game. Had he passed out at Lumiere's and Cogsworth's place?

Then there was the voice. Soft, with a regular, comforting cadence that suggested that the speaker was reading aloud. _Belle's voice_, he realized. He relaxed and allowed her voice to wash over him. "_'So all my plan is spoilt!' said Frodo. 'It is no good trying to escape you. But I'm glad, Sam. I cannot tell you how glad. Come along!'_"

"_It is plain that we were meant to go together_," Adam continued groggily. He heard a gasp, and the sound of a book being snapped hastily shut.

"Adam?" Belle's voice whispered hesitantly. He eased his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of Belle's worried, hopeful face staring back at him. He blinked into the bright light that surrounded her head like a halo, casting her already beautiful features with a soft, angelic glow. As soon as she saw his eyes open, she threw herself on him and squeezed him harder than he could remember ever being squeezed in his life. For not the first time, he mused that Belle was surprisingly strong for a woman of her size.

"Oof," he groaned. "It _is_ you."

"Oh my gosh!" Belle released him quickly. "I'm so sorry! Are you ok? I was just excited to see you finally awake!"

"_Finally_?" Adam muttered. "How long have I been out?"

"Um, long enough for me to almost get all the way through _The Fellowship of the Ring_?" Belle replied. "It's been about a day and a half."

His vision was finally starting to come into focus, and he could see the dark circles rimming her eyes. Had she been here that whole time? "Belle, have you slept in the last day and a half?"

"Not really," she whispered. "I figured you were doing enough of that for both of us. Plus, I wanted to be sure I was awake when _you_ woke up. How are you feeling?"

"Like my head just got run over by a truck."

"That's the concussion," Belle nodded. "You hit your head pretty hard when Gaston tackled you." Her voice had taken on a hard edge that he wasn't used to hearing.

"Gaston ...," he repeated.

"Is no longer the captain of our team," Belle replied. "I don't know what he was thinking, but there was a mutiny once everyone realized how badly he had hurt you. I only wish it hadn't taken that for everyone to finally see him for what he really is," she said bitterly.

Adam laughed weakly. "Yeah, me too."

Belle stood. "I should go find the doctor and tell her you're awake. She'll want to take a look at you. Oh, and your uncle, and Lumiere, and Cosgworth. They've been here the whole time, too; they just left to get coffee a few minutes ago. They'll be so relieved to know you're ok."

"Belle, wait," Adam whispered urgently, grabbing her hand before she could turn around.

She looked down at him with concern. "What's wrong? Do you need something?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I need to _tell_ you something," Adam faltered. He had been thinking about his feelings for Belle even more than usual after the concert they had attended two weeks ago. It had seemed at that time like she might reciprocate his feelings, but they had been interrupted before he could confirm it, and things had returned to the way they had been before they had nearly kissed. He had wondered if he should broach the subject again, or if he should just let it go and be glad that the incident hadn't ruined their friendship. After all, _she_ hadn't said anything. Knowing that she had sat by his side for the last day and a half, though, had given him the courage to finally come clean with her. He was still tormented by the possibility that she wouldn't return his feelings, but he no longer feared losing her. His confession might cause some temporary awkwardness, but he understood now that she would never abandon him because of it. And he _needed_ her to know how he felt. Suddenly, he couldn't keep it to himself for a minute longer.

Without a word, Belle took her seat next to his bed once more. She turned her hand so that she was now grasping his, rather than the other way around. "I'm listening," she said softly.

Adam looked her directly in the eyes, willing her to understand that he was speaking from his heart, that this wasn't just some side effect of the head injury. "I love you, Belle." His head was hurting him too much for him to be anything other than direct.

Belle's eyes widened. "You do?"

"I do," Adam answered. "I've known it for a long time, but I didn't say anything because I was afraid of scaring you. I should've known better than that, and, well, I just needed you to know. I'm sorry if this makes things weird." Belle smiled brightly at him, and in that instant, and even in spite of her obvious lack of sleep, Adam thought that she had never looked more beautiful.

"I love you, too, Adam."

If the various machines attached to his body hadn't assured him otherwise, Adam would have sworn that his heart had stopped beating for just a moment. "You do?"

Belle nodded. "I think I began to realize it when we went to that concert together. The night that you almost - that _we_ almost ...," she trailed off in embarrassment.

"That I almost kissed you?" he finished for her.

Belle nodded again. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. I felt, somehow, like I'd been ... cheated. And then when I saw you get hurt during the game, when you didn't get up, the thought that I could actually _lose_ you when I'd just realized how much you mean to me ..." She choked back a sob.

"Gaston didn't hit me _that_ hard," Adam scoffed as he gave her hand a light squeeze.

She hiccuped and smiled back at him through moist eyes. "I know. But it was all my fault that he even hit you in the first place. I'm _so_ sorry, Adam."

"Wait," Adam frowned, "why would you think that it was _your_ fault?"

Belle shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Gaston has been trying to get me to go out with him for months, and I've turned him down every time he's asked. He's never remotely interested me. But after he knocked you out, Mike LeFou told me that Gaston thought _you_ and I were together, and that that was the reason I was refusing him. I guess he was jealous and he took it out on you. I always knew he was kind of unevolved, but I had no idea he would do something like that." She looked at Adam earnestly. "I would never have asked you to join our team if I thought he would hurt you. You _have_ to believe me."

Belle's revelation jogged something in his memory, one of the last things he could really remember before waking a few minutes ago. Something their illustrious former captain had said right before he hit him. _Stay away from Belle._ Now things were starting to make sense. "Of course I believe you, Belle," Adam assured her. How could she even think he would blame her? "Please don't think it was your fault; it was his, and _only_ his. You had no way of knowing he'd jump to that conclusion, or react like that. That's not what normal people do."

Belle smiled at him and gripped his hand tighter, the gratitude and relief evident on her face, and Adam was seized by a sudden urge. "Do you want to give that kiss another try?" he suggested.

Belle didn't answer, but only lowered her mouth to his. As their lips finally met, Adam's heart began to pound madly, and his thoughts leapt, of their own accord, to the visions of a future with Belle that he had imagined so many times before: the places they would see, the adventures they would share, the family they might have, one day. Things that had once seemed like the hopeless fantasies of a lovesick mind seemed gloriously possible now that they had confessed their feelings for each other.

They were so wrapped up in each other that Lumiere had to knock three times before he could get their attention. Adam finally pulled away with a gasp to see his friend smirking at him from the doorway. "Glad to see you're feeling better," he quipped. Cogsworth stood behind him, jaw hanging open. Adam's uncle stood next to Cogsworth, smiling widely.

"We're deeply sorry for interrupting," Lumiere apologized, "but the doctor will be in here in a minute, so you might want to get your heart rate under control before you send her into a panic." He gestured to the monitor next to Adam's bed, which displayed a jumble of tightly-packed waves. Adam laughed awkwardly as Belle straightened in her chair, smoothing a hand over her hair and looking at the floor in embarrassment.

"Hey," Adam said gently, reaching over to grab Belle's hand. "Are you ok?"

Though her face was red, Belle managed a smile for him. "More than ok," she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. "Though _I_ should be asking _you_ that question."

Adam grinned. "I'm _great_."

That earned a laugh from Belle. "Well, we'll just wait and see what the doctor says. Hopefully you won't be stuck in here for much longer."

"The first thing I'm going to do when I get out is take you on a real date. Anywhere you want. We can even go back to that vegan place if you want."

Belle laughed again softly. "Exactly how hard _did_ you hit your head?"

"I mean it," Adam assured her earnestly. "We can do anything you want, I just want to take you out, if you'll let me."

"Ok," Belle agreed, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "It's a date."


	16. Epilogue

_Eh ... I lied. Now it's done._

* * *

Adam was awakened from a deep and peaceful sleep by the dulcet tones of Iron Maiden's "The Trooper." Eyes still closed, he reached blindly for his nightstand as the harmonized guitar riffs shattered the silence of the room ... only to have his hand meet empty air. Groggily, he continued to grope the void in a fruitless search for his phone.

"Are you going to answer that?" His eyes snapped open at the unexpected sound of a familiar voice. Belle's head rested on his chest, and she blinked up at him sleepily as if she, too, had only just woken up. His phone abruptly stopped its ringing as his eyes adjusted to the light and he was able to take in the unfamiliar surroundings. _Belle's room, not mine_, he realized. He had been in her apartment many times before, but had never actually seen what her bedroom looked like until the night before, when they had returned, giddy and on cloud nine, from their first "official" date. He had been too busy admiring other things at the time to really appreciate the decor, but his eyes now scanned the room with curiosity. The light streaming in through the window behind them bounced off the warm yellow walls, bathing the room in a sunny glow. Unlike the living room walls, which were mostly adorned with family photos, these were decorated with framed travel posters depicting various far-off places. A simple dresser stood against one wall, and a nightstand piled with books sat next to the bed - on Belle's side, he noted ruefully. The bed itself was covered in a thick blue comforter, beneath which he and Belle were currently cuddled.

"Sorry about that," Adam apologized sheepishly, looking back down at his girlfriend - it gave him a little thrill to be able to think of her as that now. "I guess I forgot to turn my phone off. I can't imagine who'd be calling me this early though." And that was when the phone began to ring again. Adam groaned and shot Belle another apologetic look as he rolled toward the direction of the ringing. This time, he was able to trace the source to the floor beside the bed and finally fished the phone from the pocket of his pants.

The identity of the relentless caller flashed on the screen: Lumiere. What did he want this early on a Sunday? "Lumiere?" Adam greeted in a voice still thick with sleep. "What's going on?"

"Oh good, you're awake," Lumiere responded with relief and, Adam thought, a hint of annoyance.

"I am _now,_" Adam said pointedly, flopping back onto the pillows and pulling Belle back to his side.

"Did you forget that I was picking you up for practice this morning? I've been buzzing your apartment for the last ten minutes." Adam bolted upright in bed, taking Belle along with him. She yelped in surprise. "Did you get a dog?" Lumiere asked, his voice bewildered.

"What? No! I mean, I did forget," Adam admitted, cringing as he tugged the blankets up and around Belle's shoulders. "I'm sorry, man. I don't know how that happened."

"Well lucky for you I was a few minutes early. If you can get your stuff together and get down here in about ten minutes, we should still be able to get to the rehearsal studio on time. You know how edgy Cogsworth gets when we're running behind."

"Um, about that ...," Adam began. "I'm, uh, not actually at my place."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "_Reeeeally?_" Lumiere drawled.

Adam laughed awkwardly, thankful that Belle was the only one who could see the furious blush creeping across his face at the moment. "Yeah. I, uh, hate to ask, but would you mind picking me up at Belle's place? It isn't far. I can be ready by the time you get here."

"I take it your date went well then?"

Adam glanced over at Belle and smiled. It actually _had_ been a great date, once they had both gotten over their nerves and the irrational belief that they somehow still needed to impress each other. Adam had managed to secure a dinner reservation at one of the fanciest restaurants in Molyneaux; it was virtually impossible to get a table in the place unless you called weeks in advance, but the owner's son was one of his favorite guitar students, and the father had been able to pull a few strings for him. Adam had been elated; Belle had been amazing after he had been released from the hospital, even taking a few days off from work to care for him, bring him food and books, and accompany him to doctor appointments, and Adam had been determined to dazzle her with a memorable first date in order to show her his gratitude. Unfortunately, the restaurant had turned out to be so pretentious that both he and Belle had felt completely out of place. They only admitted this to each other accidentally, though, and nearly halfway through their meals (and one overpriced bottle of wine that they had both only pretended to enjoy).

It was with mutual relief that they agreed to forgo dessert, opting instead to purchase some treats and hot cocoa at a nearby bakery and have an impromptu picnic in the park. While in the park, they had encountered a group of astronomy students from the local university, and the students had been happy to let them take a few turns with their equipment in exchange for some cookies. Belle and Adam spent more than an hour with the group, gazing up at the constellations and learning about the myths behind them. They had strolled through the park afterward, arguing playfully about which story had been the best (Belle's favorite had been the Corona Borealis, which depicted the crown of clever princess Ariadne, while Adam preferred the more conventional heroism of Perseus). Belle had effectively silenced the debate by pulling him into a heart-stopping kiss, and the rest of the evening after that point was honestly one big, happy blur to him. The date didn't quite work out the way he had planned, but in retrospect, it had been perfect.

"It went really well," Adam replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll expect all the details when I see you in ten minutes."

"Thanks, I owe you one." Adam dropped the phone onto the bed beside him and turned to look at Belle. He winced when he saw the disappointment on her face.

"You have to go." It wasn't really a question; the answer was obvious from what she had gleaned from Adam's side of the conversation.

Adam nodded. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot that we reserved a studio for rehearsal this morning." Belle nodded. "You could come sit in on practice if you want? The guys wouldn't mind."

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to be mistaken for a groupie," Belle teased.

Adam smiled wryly. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

Belle laughed. "Probably not. But I think I'll pass on coming to practice this time. It might be a little weird if I was there today."

She had a point. Adam had a feeling that this session was going to be embarrassing enough for him as it was; there was no sense in subjecting Belle to that as well. "Maybe we can do something after practice then?" he suggested.

Belle smiled at him. "I'd like that." He leaned over to kiss her cheek, slowly working his way in toward her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him as he lowered her back onto the pillows, thinking that he could get used to waking up this way. Well, maybe minus the jarring phone calls and forgotten appointments. Belle seemed to be dwelling on that interruption as well, because she suddenly pushed gently on his chest and pulled her lips from his. "Don't you need to get ready?"

Adam reluctantly pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Yeah," he sighed. Lumiere had sounded forgiving enough on the phone, but that might not be the case if he kept the guys waiting any longer. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and scoured the room for his clothes, suppressing a groan when he spotted the rumpled dress shirt and slacks lying on the floor. He had already resigned himself to being the butt of his friends' jokes for the next few hours, but this was making it almost too easy for them.

Belle threw a robe over her nightclothes as Adam shrugged into his clothing from the evening before. She thought he had looked quite handsome in them last night, but she guessed that he would be slightly overdressed for his rehearsal this morning. She could only imagine the quips he would have to endure from Lumiere and Cogsworth. Adam appeared to have read her thoughts, because he looked over at her and grimaced. "I might stop home and change before I meet you later."

Belle laughed and accompanied him to the door. "That's ok. I love you no matter what you look like."

Adam gave her a lopsided grin. Those were three words he didn't think he'd get tired of hearing any time soon. "I love you, too," he replied, kissing her cheek quickly before backing down the hallway. "See you later." She smiled back and gave him a small wave before closing the door to her apartment.

Lumiere's truck was just pulling up to the curb as Adam exited Belle's building. His friends glanced back at him with smirking faces as he tugged open the rear passenger-side door and wordlessly buckled his seat belt. "You didn't have to get dressed up just for _us_," Lumiere remarked, provoking a fit of giggles from Cogsworth. Adam sighed and slumped against his seat; it was going to be a long morning.


End file.
